Arlan Feiles « Vichy Water

May 2, 2015

SPOTLIGHT: My Conversation with Troubadour, Singer, Songwriter Arlan Feiles after his trip to Selma, Alabama for the 50th Anniversary Jubilee of March from Selma to Montgomery and a Tribute to Viola Liuzzo bY Calvin Schwartz May 3rd 2015

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Alabama, Arlan Feiles, Dr Martin Luther King, Dylan, Rosa Parks, Selma, Unitarian Universalist Church, Viola Liuzzo — earthood @ 2:11 pm

SPOTLIGHT: My Conversation with Troubadour, Singer, Songwriter Arlan Feiles after his trip to Selma, Alabama for the 50^th Anniversary Jubilee of March from Selma to Montgomery and a Tribute to Viola Liuzzo bY Calvin Schwartz May 3^rd 2015

with Arlan & Vejai at a Rutgers basketball game

Life can be like a synchronistic loose thick thread. Tethered to a pole, it blows in the wind and if you can plot its movement, there might be a message spelled out. Three years ago, who knew I’d become friends with Arlan Feiles. Two summers ago, before the winds of winter arrived, we shot hoops together in each of our backyards and managed to see Kobe and the Lakers play the Brooklyn Nets. Three years ago, Scott Fadynich, a mutual friend, perseverated that I had to hear Arlan Feiles sing. So I did finally at The Saint in Asbury Park. My reaction was instant and lasting; Arlan is an extraordinarily sensitive, introspective, hugely talented singer songwriter with an unusual (for today’s world) social conscience which emanates, permeates and saturates his soulful songs. I came out of the sixties where troubadours like Dylan, Phil Ochs, Pete Seeger, Richie Havens, Joan Baez, Judy Collins and Tom Paxton flourished. With Arlan, I felt back home again in the future.

50th Anniversary Commemorative Medal of March from Selma to Montgomery

Arlan asked if I wanted to go to Selma for the Jubilee. The timing wasn’t right but I should’ve been there. Perhaps the next best thing was to sit down with Arlan in his kitchen for two hours after he got back. He was invited by the family of Viola Liuzzo to sing the song he wrote seven years ago, ‘Viola’ at the service at a chapel near her memorial on Route 80 in Selma. It’s best if you check this link out on Viola Liuzzo’s life: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viola_Liuzzo ) Yes, Viola Liuzzo was a housewife in Detroit in 1965, a mother of five and a civil rights activist who went down to Selma to help. She was murdered by the Klan (an FBI informant was in the car that pulled her over) There is still much to the story of courageous Viola that has yet been told. Arlan heard about Viola, the only white woman murdered in the civil rights movement. He was so moved by her life and death, that he wrote the song ‘Viola’ and became part of the Liuzzo family. More on that later. Also, here is Arlan singing ‘Viola’ on You Tube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPpihyVY0JE

in Selma with Edmund Pettus Bridge in background

His kitchen was comfortable; the family dog rested on my left shoe under the table. This interview is streams of consciousness and in the exact order of revelation. I asked about what I read about Viola and the FBI. “Viola got it from both directions. Hoover hated Dr. King and Jimmy Hoffa even more.” Viola’s husband was an executive with the Teamsters in Detroit. Arlan jumped to the flight home. “I flew home with Lucy Baines Johnson and Congresswoman Debbie Wasserman Schultz. We talked about Viola. I gave them both CDs and told them why I was there.”

I mentioned to Arlan about the synchronicity of the night before when I was at a new gig as co-host of Danny Coleman’s Rock on Radio Show. Walking around the 40 Foot Hole Studio, which was really part of the living quarters of the Murray Grove Retreat Center and Universalist Unitarian Church, I saw a poster of a hundred Church members who made a difference including pictures of Albert Schweitzer, Charles Darwin and Dickens, Clara Barton and Pete Seeger. There was Viola’s picture; I was seeing Arlan in the morning. “She was very ahead of her time; One of the first white women to join the NAACP.”

on the road to Selma

“I want to let people know that it’s important Viola’s story be told. Viola is not given her equal due in the civil rights community; A fair plain statement. However the movie, ‘Selma’ has brought a lot of new people to her story. There was a constant flow of people to her marker. It’s half way between Selma and Montgomery exactly where she was driven off the road and murdered. There’s a small church at the roadside where I played the piano. I also stopped at both the Hank Williams Museum across the street from the Rosa Parks Museum.”

I asked Arlan about the current state of information about Viola’s murder. “It’s frustrating that her story isn’t fully realized. The more people that become aware of Viola and what she stood for and what she died for; there will be more hunger to hear the rest of that story.”

Viola Liuzzo Memorial

They flew into Atlanta on the Friday night and drove to Montgomery where they lodged. “A lot of Italians were there. They were interested in the Liuzzo’s. A few young Italian girls were making a documentary about Viola and another one was from the Italian press.” “I wrote the song ’50 miles’ because of the March from Selma to Montgomery.”

“What about Sunday in Selma?” “So many people came into Selma, they were held at the bridge. (Edmund Pettus Bridge) The politicians left on Saturday which was kind of bogus. Sunday was for the real people. A lot of dignitaries, organizers, I think Martin Luther King’s daughter, after the service, were supposed to go over the bridge. There were so many people, they couldn’t agitate them, and so they let some people cross. Well, they soon found out, once you crossed the bridge out of Selma, you could not come back in because the National Guard closed Selma because of the huge numbers of people. Once you cross, you can’t come back. Next thing you know everyone stops on bridge. Many groups did cross and buses picked them up.”

Highway 80 near Viola Liuzzo Memorial

Viola’s mention in Unitarian Universalist poster

I asked if Arlan and the Liuzzo family crossed. “No we didn’t. People were trying to turn around. Police couldn’t insure the safety of the dignitaries, so they cancelled them; wouldn’t let them cross. Many did get over. I saw one group with a banner go maybe 15 feet in 45 minutes. There were some protestors who said when you get to the other side of the bridge; there will no longer be systemic racism. We know racism is still here. But to celebrate the advancement has merit.”

On Saturday night they screened the documentary ‘Home of the Brave’ about Viola Liuzzo. Paola di Florio, the director did the screening. Arlan performed after the Q & A. “Viola is buried in Detroit. The Teamsters took care of getting her back to Detroit.” “When did you write the song ’50 Miles’?” “I was talking to Mary Liuzzo when she invited me to come down. She said you should write a song for the 50^th Anniversary. A few weeks ago I recorded it before I left. It took a few hours to write for the most part.”

Arlan with Viola’s daughters

We talked next about the memorial for Viola. “The memorial has been vandalized many times.” I reminded Arlan about the man (Edmund Pettus) for whom the bridge is named. We both laughed sardonically. Mr. Pettus was a U.S. Senator from Alabama and Grand Dragon of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan. “The Mayor of Selma did appoint a KKK Dragon to be a member of his council. During the March, the KKK went around house to house with flyers to get people to join and they bought a billboard to promote seeing the Civil War sights.” The billboard is dedicated to KKK founder Nathan Bedford Forrest and contains the quote, “Keep the skeer on ’em.” It features a Confederate flag. I thought to myself about why I’ve never been down south and decided to leave it that way beginning right after I saw ‘Easy Rider’ in 1969. Am I just a damn Yankee?

singing at Viola Liuzzo Memorial on Route 80

There was a lull in the conversation after our Klan talk. We both sensed introspection. Then Arlan continued. “My effort is to get more people to hear her name; to have role models like that for white people to know they can be involved. She died for injustice to people. Viola really believed we are our brother’s keepers. She didn’t see blacks being oppressed; she saw people. She answered that call. If all of us had that ideal ingrained, the world would be a better place. It seems like an easy solution.”

Arlan was back to Saturday. “We had breakfast with Sally and Penny (Viola’s daughters). We met at the Cracker Barrel. I guess I was really down south; had to have biscuits and gravy with grits. I’m going to my cardiologist tomorrow. Sally gets a text from Mary. “We walked out of the Mayor’s dinner last night.” It’s public knowledge. They (the family) were snubbed. There are a lot of times like that. Once in Shreveport; they were there to get an award for Viola. The following morning they go to check out of the hotel. Everyone is gone and left them (the family) with the bill. They were crying. “

at Memorial for Viola

More from the breakfast; “Learned FBI approached Penny and Sally. It’s not a secret. They wanted to talk to them. They felt exploited. There was an FBI informant in car which pulled Viola over and killed her. The family sued the Federal Government for years and years but they lost. FBI informant never went to jail.” Arlan took a deep pensive breath. I waited. “The story is not finished. They are living it. Still a work in progress; they can’t make a movie yet. Viola’s story is a cold case as far as family and advocates concerned.”

“After breakfast, Dan (who documented Arlan’s trip) and I went on an exploratory journey to Montgomery; museums, downtown, Rosa Park Museum, Hank Williams Library. Downtown is almost a ghost-town although it was a weekend. A KIA plant is there with a large Asian population so Sushi is available.”

“Later three buses of Teamsters pulled up; 150 or so. They came out to honor Viola and family and escorted them from the chapel to the marker. Teamsters chanted all the way which the girls participated in. They’re proud to be a Teamster family. Most of the Teamsters were black. A young black women’s group did a reading honoring Viola at the Wright Chapel where I played the piano and sang. 150 people were at the memorial but no politicians. I sent Congressman (NJ) Frank Pallone a note. I’m a constituent in his district. He was in Selma. His presence would’ve been appreciated. No response of course.”

I wondered about President Obama and his knowledge of Viola. “The President has mentioned Viola’s name several times. The whole weekend worked out beautifully for politicians and rock stars on the big stage. The Liuzzo’s keep getting knocked down, half respect, left with the check, yet they pick themselves up and continue to do Viola’s work.”

in Selma

in Contemplation

Arlan’s oldest pre-school daughter, Tessa, walked into the kitchen. I marveled at her animated wondrous face and expressiveness. She was hungry. Her timing was perfect too. We were in a heavy modality and needed relief. Tessa took my pen and created precious art on my yellow legal pad. Arlan plunged back into consciousness. “When Viola’s body came back to Detroit, people threw bricks and shot guns into their house. They were called racial epithets. The family has endured a lifetime of abuse and spent years in courts trying to clear their mothers name. It all started with Hoover (FBI) and it’s documented. Even her autopsy was altered to include needle marks in her arm. They said on the news she was a drug addict.” I asked Arlan if it was to discredit her. “Yes. And even an article blamed her for leaving her family. Still fighting to get the recognition she deserves.”

Logically, I next asked Arlan how he got involved with the Liuzzo family. “Three years ago, during Light of Day, I performed ‘Viola’ at The Watermark. A woman from the Asbury Park Press was interested in the story and wrote about my performing the song and included lyrics and talked about Viola Liuzzo, Civil Rights Martyr. The article came out on Martin Luther King Day. Sally Liuzzo had her Google alerts set for Viola Liuzzo in national press. Google alert said Arlan Feiles performs song, ‘Viola.’ “Who is this guy? I have to hear this song.” She hunts me down and is so overwhelmed, she wrote me a beautiful long letter via Facebook, thanking me. It was followed by two more letters by Mary and Penny with an invitation to join them in Shreveport for Viola Liuzzo Day.”

Tessa was still hungry. I knew it was time. It had been two fascinating intense hours. And I got to know someone just a little bit better. I visualized that string blowing in the wind. And today is May 1^st. There beyond my computer screen is a May Pole. Children are laughing, playing and dancing. The blowing string is spelling out the words, “A caring special soul.”Arlan Feiles.

Please check out: http://www.arlanfeilesmusic.com

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August 14, 2012

Olympic Memories: Flo Hyman. Royal Caribbean Nightmare. Please Let My Apples Turn Brown. Dr Sketchy Asbury Park N.J. I Am a New Word in the Dictionary: Flexitarian. August 14, 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Arlan Feiles, Asbury Park, Bob Mathias, Calvin Schwartz, Carli Lloyd, Dr. Sketchy, Flexitarian, Flo Hyman, Jesse Owens, Maple Avenue School, Olympic Volleyball, Royal Caribbean, Rutgers University — earthood @ 5:09 pm

it’s me the blogger who is sometimes sporadically tardy

I can’t wait to talk about Asbury Park; it’s becoming a real love affair to remember; me and that Jersey shore town with all kinds of magical musical Springsteen energy and history. The Olympics are now over and I was glued to my television set just like I was back in 1968, 1972 and every four years (not 1980, Jimmy) through most of my relevant life. Speaking of glue, a dermatologist just told me a few weeks ago that when I get those little cracks in my fingers which annoy and cause depressing pain, I should get crazy glue and blast the suckers shut. I was a little hesitant about the crazy glue thinking it’s almost irreversible so instead I used hoof lacquer (the stuff for horses) and it worked. I just thought about the Jane Fonda 1969 movie, ‘They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?’ I think they take old race horses now and ship them to Mexico to be made into human food stuffs.

Olympic great volleyball player Flo Hyman. always one of my heroes.

I love watching the Olympics; every four years I get a generation older; could’ve started and finished another college education and the Olympics come back. I’m four years older, wiser and that far removed from ever being an athlete in the Olympics. If I lived to be 100 years old, then the most Olympics I could ever see would be just 25 summer classics and that’s pushing it.

Carli Lloyd scored the winning gold medal goal against Japan with seconds left. A Rutgers graduate too.

How I wish there was a bucket floating around a Jersey shore jetty that would lift and move me to attend an Olympics live. Imagine sitting in Wembley stadium last week and watching Carli Lloyd (Rutgers University) score two goals to give USA the gold medal in Women’s football (soccer) over Japan. I sometimes think about Olympian Flo Hyman. I wonder how many viewers of NBC’s Olympic coverage know who she was; yes, an Olympian and not that long ago. I lament that more folks don’t know who she was and what she contributed to team USA winning a silver medal. Flo passed away much too young yet she impacted me enough to be blogging about her now.

Jesse Owens. always an Olympic hero

In 1974, Hyman was a member of the US volleyball team, but the team did not play in the 1980 Olympic Games; the United States boycotted the Moscow Olympics because the Russians were messing around in Afghanistan. I still remember Flo Hyman’s fast, hurting volleyball spike that hits at 100 mph. I loved to watch her play just like I do now with Misty Mae and Kerri. At the 1984 Olympics, Hyman, the tallest and oldest member of the team, led the US to the silver medal.

First Lady Michelle Obama and Mayor Cory Booker at my grammar school, Maple Avenue where I was always tardy.

After the Olympics, Hyman moved to Japan, where she played for the Daiei team. In the summer of 1986, she intended to return to the United States permanently, but never got the chance. On January 24, 1986, Hyman collapsed while sitting on the bench. She told her team to keep fighting, then moments later slid to the floor and died. It was a condition called Marfan’s Syndrome which affects tall people. I’m 6’5” and I still think about Flo Hyman, Jesse Owens and Bob Mathias among others. With respect to universe connectivity, I wonder why thoughts of Flo Hyman are always with me. One more Olympic thought; international sport and athletes are a beautiful thing. I get all choked up watching humanity interact on playing fields. Its 1960’s love and peace and gives the species and our globally warmed world, hope. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the species all signed the Kyoto protocol a month after the Olympics?

Leaving Bayonne on Royal Caribbean under the Verrazano Bridge

Seemingly there’s always a reason why my blog gets tardy grades. I remember my Maple Avenue School in Newark in the 1950’s. Mrs. Obama visited my old grammar school a couple of years ago. The school report cards are still in my basement protected from rising hurricane waters so I can show grandchildren way in the future that their grandfather got unsatisfactory grades in tardiness. I was always late; still am. Even yesterday, in New York City hanging out with a social media guru, she told me that my tardiness may be a passive aggressive behavior disorder. I tongue and cheeked her (aggressively denying her notions) that I’ve been to a geneticist and my tardiness is chromosomal so I live with it and endear myself to readers, friends and family so my extant tardiness is overlooked. Therefore this blog is a little tardy (late) because I was away for 10 days on a cruise to the Caribbean.

a view from the deck. it’s big.

As I go through the maturation process like fine wine or cheese, I’ve grown less accustomed and enamored with flying; perhaps a fear too; perhaps a lack of control (back in June, 1974 for about a half-hour I thought about taking flying lessons). Recent vacations have been designed around avoidance of Newark Airport and leaving on jet planes. Enter Bayonne, New Jersey and the cruise ships which leave for points south. Bayonne is a mere 20 minutes and one Turnpike toll away. In July we boarded Royal Caribbean’s Explorer of the Seas ship for a 10 day cruise to Bermuda and the Caribbean. We subliminally thought this was an elegant cruise line; we didn’t do enough homework. My blogging herein is to convey the message ‘buyers beware.’

working out in the empty ship gym. where did all the flowers and people go.

No long laborious cruise diary necessary here; just the facts. Ten minutes in the stateroom, our olfactory sensation is bombarded by sewage odors. Three days later and a very uncaring, unresponsive housekeeping staff finally partially tends to the odors. We got a bottle of merlot for our troubled nostrils. I forgot to tell the housekeeping executive that since I saw the movie ‘Sideways’ a few Christmas vacations ago, I don’t drink “effen” merlot anymore.

the infamous towel line. all that humanity waiting to get or return towels.

Food presentation was better back in 1955 at Maple Avenue School. I know lettuce is lettuce but throw a doily and some creativity into presentation. Three thousand passengers got one partially working low fat frozen yogurt machine. And afternoons were partially consumed by long lines waiting to take out or return pool towels. They don’t trust us anymore and throw our towel names into computers. Failure to comply is a $25 charge/towel.

the boat in dock in bermuda

I wanted to wear a badge of honor: “I don’t drink so leave me alone and stop hovering over my lounge chair with melted iced concoctive drinks. I want peace in my time.´ Neville Chamberlain said that peace thing before World War II. They never stop hawking drinks. We didn’t have time to arrange a tour of San Juan that the ship provided for $49.95/person. It was a two hour bus tour around new and old San Juan. After leaving the ship once we docked in San Juan, a street tour service asked if we wanted a two hour tour of new and old San Juan for $10/person. We did. And this part of the blog is over. Oh and be careful of Royal Caribbean potato salad. It’s spiked with ham. And I am a flexitarian.

a cemetery in old San Juan

Yes, flexitarian is in the blog title. So this now becomes the perfect segue. Just this morning I was listening to the ‘Today Show’ and a segment on new words being added to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary. ‘F-bomb’ and ‘gassed’ (drained of energy), ‘tipping point’ (means we haven’t signed the Kyoto protocol and our earth is near tipping point so we’ll never be able to fix our planet so good-bye Miami and New Orleans and Key West. (Hemingway and Jimmy Buffet memories). Finally flexitarian. I am so redeemed. I’ve been calling myself a flexitarian for several years; way ahead of trending and lexicographers. A flexitarian is a vegetarian who sometimes eats meat, poultry or fish. I stopped eating red meat in 1975 (a long story) but I do eat chicken, turkey and fish. I’m so proud I’ve been officially defined now.

the bird is real. hanging around the pier. $10 to sit on your shoulder. i’m too tall i reasoned.

Finally along the health related thoughts (remembering I’m also a trans-humanist and aspire to live to 150 years). There is now an apple that has been genetically modified not to turn brown. The Arctic Apple created by Okanagan Specialty Fruits is an apple that won’t turn brown when cut or bruised, keeping its perfect appearance. The brown harmless hue that develops when you bruise, bite or slice an apple comes from polyphenol oxidase (PPO) The company science team replaces a variety’s PPO-producing genes with “silenced” (low PPO-producing) versions extracted from other apples, aided by time-proven biotechnology tools. This results in apples that don’t produce enough PPO to brown. And I wonder. Hey Mah, tell them to leave my apples alone. There’s this Russian scientist who someday will be able to take my entire cerebral essence (every cell, neuron, synapse) and transplant it into a Terminator cyborg and I get to live forever. By then, my blogs will never be late. Promiso.

public speaking in old San Juan. and i have no further aspirations.

Finally last week I attended this Dr Sketchy Asbury Park event at Asbury Lanes and I loved it for a myriad of journalistic and sociological reasons. Here’s my words (pixs) describing my observations. I’m smiling. It’s purist fun being a writer, blogger and a fan of Andy Rooney, Charles Kuralt and Flo Hyman:

the morning sailing back to Bayonne by the Verrazano. where was everybody. at the last buffet meal.

There’s a recurring theme to my words and explorations this past year. “I love Asbury Park.” Sometimes I feel like Winston Zeddemore, the character from ‘Ghostbusters’ when he proclaims at the end of the movie, “I love this city.” I do. But it’s Asbury Park. I’ve been saying for a long time as well that I keep feeling a magic dust constantly descending upon this New Jersey seaside city. Part of the dust is definitely a Bruce Springsteen affectation; pure magic and inspirational. You can feel it everywhere. Good old palpable dust that moves you to creativity and dreams. If you want a piece of it, to experience it, then come to Asbury Park.

asbury lanes, asbury park at night. scene of dr sketchy. and my shadow in in bottom of pix. how rod serling is that.

Asbury Park is becoming that iconic cultural hub for music, art, theater, food and walks on boards. I suppose there’s nothing quite like salt air, inhaled deeply to sweep you back to seeing news reports of President Eisenhower playing golf or Good Humor ice cream trucks pushing Chocolate Éclair bars; obviously my favorite; toasted Almond in second place. Part of the allure of diversity of culture in Asbury Park is Dr Sketchy Anti-Art School. I think it’s time to tell the deal with Dr. Sketchy and why I have so much fun attending (as a journalist).

sketching models at dr. sketchy

Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School is both a burlesque cabaret and life drawing event originating in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and was founded in New York City in 2005, by illustrator and former artist’s model Molly Crabapple and illustrator A.V. Phibes. They’ve grown globally with branches all over. As of September 2007, Dr. Sketchy’s branches exist in 100 cities around the world. Branches vary in their conservatism and the skill of their artists. Asbury Park’s Dr Sketchy brings in eclectic, beautiful, charming, and fun models. I’ve been to several events which are always themed. Several months ago it was ‘vampires.’ The other evening was ‘horror.’ Sociologically speaking it’s quite an event; artists sketching and photographers capturing.

with dr sketchy models courtney wood and jess stroh. and i always thought i was 6’5″. are times changing??

Asbury Park’s Asbury Lanes has hosted several Dr. Sketchy events. For a small cover charge you’ve got up to four hours of sketching models and themes. Poses range up to five minutes and sometimes you feel as if you’re on a movie set. Props and music put you in the themed mood; sometimes the models even act as impromptu judges for a captured particular sketch. Tim, the franchisee has been particularly gracious and helpful in keeping me in the information loop.

Tim from Dr Sketchy presiding over a sketching contest with models.

candles and bowling balls occupying same rack at asbury lanes. and welcome back to the future.

Back to Asbury Lanes; as one donut chain advertises; it’s definitely worth the trip to set a bowling foot back in time to bygone days of the Lone Ranger, Pac Man, Photo Booths, Art Deco paintings and posters garnishing the walls and a bar that reminds me of Jack Torrance and red-rum and Stephen King. Even the water fountain belongs in a hip-hop museum. Everything about Dr Sketchy Asbury Park is in good taste and fun. The models are professional, outgoing, and intelligent and yes, beautiful. Usually a professional photographer takes part of the bar area and recreates scenes and themes with the models. I could learn to be a photographer if I keep hanging around.

a surreal look at the lanes. bowl a game?

more asbury lanes, asbury park back to the future props.

This particular night was ‘horror’ themed so I got to see a replica chain saw, a few skeleton face wall paintings and I even got a chance to personally administer a massage to a skeleton resting comfortably on a bar stool. Everybody goes out of their way to make your Dr. Sketchy time enjoyable and fun. So my advice as a fun journalistic advisor (consigliere) for central Jersey and the Jersey shore folks or even NYC, New Hampshire or Maryland folks is not to get thee to a nunnery but to a future Dr. Sketchy event preferably at Asbury Lanes, Asbury Park and have some sociological fun. You’re in Asbury Park, so grab dinner beforehand. And yes Virginia, you could probably bowl a few games. Speaking of the ‘Terminator’ before: this is a perfect time to close this blog by saying “I’ll be back,” but probably tardy. But isn’t this worth the wait?

More Asbury Park Calvin articles: http://www.njdiscover.com/wp1/2012/08/i-love-asbury-park-series-dr-sketchy-at-asbury-lanes-august-4-2012-by-calvin-schwartz/

dr sketchy theme ‘horror’ so i’m administering massage therapy to a skeleton.

yup the terminator and i too will be back but probably tardy.

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE WEBSITE OF ARLAN FEILES AND HIS NEW CD. “Weeds Kill the Wild Flowers” Arlan is a wondrous singer and lyricist. I keep listening and drifting all over my life and his words.

http://www.arlanfeiles.com/

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Twitter: Earthood

Email: earthood@gmail.com

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July 15, 2012

Matecumbe Key and Global Warming. I STILL Hate the NCAA (Penn State Horror). Simple Gifts: Family, Jersey Shore Music, Universe Spiritual Connections, No Calorie No Salt Salad Dressing. Asbury Park. July 15, 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Arlan Feiles, Calvin Schwartz, Danny White, Global Warming, Jersey Shore, Jim Valvano, Key Largo, Linda Chorney, Marc Ribler, Mario Casella, Matecumbe Key, NCAA, NJ Discover, Penn State, Rutgers, Simple Gifts, Slim Chance and the Gamblers, Southside Johnny, Stone Pony — earthood @ 12:14 pm

me in hurricane earl at the jersey shore

It’s my blog and I can say anything. I’m alerting the media (you all) that I’m in one of those moods, anything goes; my streams of consciousness are alive and well; so fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy blog but it’s by careful absurd design.

one of my heroes. Jim Valvano

Suddenly its summer and I remember what Vince Lombardi said: what’s important in life; your family, your religion and the Green Bay Packers. Another hero, Jim Valvano substituted Rutgers for the Green Bay Packers; he coached freshman basketball at Rutgers when he was in his early twenties. I miss Jim Valvano; his energy, humor and quest for excellence.

key largo movie poster. the movie saved my life

dream house matecumbe key

I love the word absurd. And I wonder who wrote the book of love and why the American Olympic Team is wearing uniforms made in China. There’s an old sewing group near me. A few dozen people; they’d love to make uniforms and for nothing and they’re retired. Even my 102 year old friend Emily Cook (she liked President Herbert Hoover) would help with the knitting of uniforms.

bogart and bacall in a scene from key largo. words can’t express the impact on my life

At President Obama’s inauguration, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, they played two songs; one of them was Simple Gifts which I’ve been listening to regularly for decades; both the instrumental(Aaron Copland) and song by Judy Collins. I was pleased when I heard the song played at the inaugural; was I this great visionary with music and relevancy? Simple gifts is also part of the title of this blog because when you reach that graying autumnal stage in life, you realize that life is not forever yet there are things so simple yet unappreciated that you wish you had.

global warming is doing this.

But first, carry me back to Matecumbe Key in the Florida Keys. Truth is; I just love the sound of Matecumbe Key. It haunts and pulls me soulfully to get there one day and for no particular reason other than to walk into a general store to ask the proprietor if I’m really in Matecumbe Key. Maybe buy bottled water made out of plant base and not BPA. My Matecumbe days began in 1973 when I saw the movie Key Largo with Bogart and Bacall for the first time. Much too involved to explain now, but that movie rescued and set me on a different life’s path.

Global Warming. all the posters in all the world won’t make a diffference. goodbye miami and new orleans

Strangely, in the past few weeks, I’ve been pulled by different parties to begin writing a memoir. When I do that, I’ll talk about the life saving qualities of that tech noir movie I saw in the summer of 73. In the movie, you hear mentioned several times about characters going to Matecumbe Key. I want my Maypo and Matecumbe Key and to walk barefoot on white sand. Maybe I could find a hammock between two aging palms and swing aimlessly for a few hours. I don’t drink much but perhaps a Jagermeister in a gentle breeze swinging on the hammock. The azure seas surround me in Matecumbe; I realize the good fortune of being in one of the most laid back places on our good earth; the Florida Keys.

jerry sandusky: penn state let this very bad man do very bad things for the money that football brings. shame on ncaa for doing nothing.

hey ncaa. the refs fixed this game. shame on ncaa

Actually, back around 1997 or thereabouts, I packed up my troubles spontaneously and went down to the Florida Keys for the first time. This whole adventure was simply gifted for me to put my bare toes on the dock in Key Largo where Bogart and Bacall stood in the movie Key Largo and absorb their energy. Strange as it may sound that’s exactly what I did and the only reason behind my long trip from New Jersey. I am quirky and haunted by universal energies which I don’t understand. I loved Islamorada and Key Largo and resolved to return to spend time in Matecumbe Key. But I worry.

still backstage at john eddie concert at stone pony in asbury park

I worry about global warming. Hundreds of scientists now have found evidence that global warming is really accelerating; sea levels are rising, as are greenhouse gases and the melting of glaciers. I think all the string and relativity theory in the world won’t be able to help us and therefore precious Matecumbe Key will sink into the sea and become a warped speed memory.

backstage watching southside johnny at stone pony

Global warming is causing some of our wild weather and the last 12 months have been the hottest ever on mother earth. I lucked out this past winter because I’m smart like Fredo(Michael’s brother) and I bet on a warm winter and no snow; I didn’t buy a snow blower (my source of snow removal, my prodigal son moved out a year ago) and it never snowed an inch. Hooray for global warming. Perhaps one day here in Western Monmouth county, I’ll have beach front property. I’ll make a fortune when it’s time to sell; of course the window of ocean rising will last a few weeks. But there’s always a buyer.

at wonder bar asbury park with mario casella (slim chance and the gamblers)

The trend towards a rapidly warming planet is accelerating. Last year was the second smallest area of ice (polar) on record. Glaciers continue to shrink. Greenland’s glaciers are melting 30 times faster than 10 years ago. By the year 2050, sea level will rise another 12 inches and goodbye Miami and New Orleans and my dream of a hammock swing on Matecumbe Key. And this was the first time ever that these scientific studies officially said global warming is due to man.

. with my dear friend 102 year old emily cook who could’ve knit some uniforms for our olymmpic team

john eddie with ralph notaro at stone pony asbury park

Optimism or denial; Have we reached the tipping point yet where we can slow or reverse the global warming trend? Maybe not this year or next but the scales will tip, the Yankees will win another World Series and maybe they’ll find that cigarettes are actually good for you.

Back in March 2011, I watched a basketball game between Rutgers and St. Johns at the Big East tournament in Madison Square Garden. I’ve blogged for the past year on and off about the game being obviously fixed by the referees so St. John’s could win. I’ve been watching basketball for five decades and you know when referees fail to call six egregious fouls and then walk off the court with almost two seconds left in the game; more than enough time for Rutgers to make a three point shot.

linda chorney at stone pony singing 19th nervous breakdown. she rocked.

hanging with marta and andra at stone pony after marc ribler & friends tribute to rolling stones.

I said it then and now: the NCAA hierarchy is archaic, perhaps even evil and seemingly interested more in keeping their high paying jobs. The system sucks. I hate them for not eliminating or punishing those referees. So now we have the Penn State scandal with their football program that is a huge scar on our national image and conscience and won’t go away until way after Matecumbe Key sinks into the ocean. Imagine the highest levels of the Penn State University administration, athletic director and coach Paterno all covering up the abuse and rape of young boys by Jerry Sandusky for many years; all to protect the image and money making ability of Penn State football. So let’s see what the NCAA does. What should be done is banishing their football program for many years and keeping them out of bowl play for a long time. It’s called crime and punishment and justice. But let’s see what corruption and money will ultimately do to the evil NCAA decision making process. Hah! And I’m off now to Monmouth Racetrack. I feel wise and insightful.

asbury park spontaneous boardwalk. the community drummers. pure magic people.

Now to Simple Gifts and serious thought; as I’ve aged, matured and looked through looking glasses and ponds of water (often I ponder why water is transparent), I’ve reached heightened awareness how wonderful it could be to have a family and people around you that genuinely care; people whom you share genes with. Down with mendacity and Big Daddy. Yes having a real family with siblings and cousins is a simple gift and I wish upon a star and before I head to the happy hunting ground that there was a family structure in my life. Sometimes I smell under my arms like Flounder did in the movie Animal House just before walking into Delta fraternity house to a rush party. Is it me or Memorex? And I just decided, I’ve said enough. Go read my future memoir to fully understand the depth of my family sadness. Could I make a comedy out of it all? Another Divine Comedy? I wonder.

marc ribler and friends at mc cloones asbury park

marc ribler and friends at stone pony. 50 licks. 50th anniversary of rolling stones.

But Jersey Shore music is another simple gift that I’ve embraced and realized. Asbury Park is a magical place of music, ocean, memories and culture. Often I can spend several days and nights a week exploring the boards of walking Asbury Park, sampling its plethora of food and music. Tuesday nights at McCloone’s for Marc Ribler and Friends in concert; we’re talking three or four hours of amazing music. I sit in the back and look out at the ocean and nearby Asbury Convention Hall, bathed in surreal lights and memories of Springsteen and I physically pinch myself. “Look Mah, where I am!”

Last Wednesday night, I was at the iconic Stone Pony for dozens of singers and Marc Ribler for a retrospective of the Rolling Stones. A week before, I was backstage at the Stone Pony for John Eddie and Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes thanks to my friend and Grammy nominee Linda Chorney. Last night I was in Belmar watching accomplished singer Danny White and soon in Long Branch with Gary US Bonds in concert. Tomorrow night I’m in Brick at River Rock for one of my favorite bands, Slim Chance and the Gamblers. When they sing Harbor Heart, I melt into the real Jersey Shore. It’s a never ending story of atoms, molecules, gravitational pulls and music unlike most spots on this globally warming earth; Jersey music is a simple gift that I’m forever grateful for. Thanks to my son Neil for lighting my fire.

southside johnny at stone pony with marc ribler. tribute to rolling stones.

Being connected to the Universe is another simple gift that I am forever grateful for. When I meditate each day, I make sure the universe is thanked for the simple gifts of connection. These connections are elaborate and much too complex to even being to contemplate here and now. Yesterday, these abilities were recognized and I’ve been invited by higher ups to explore this simple gift. I’ll keep you posted.

singer danny white mentoring a young band in belmar (jersey shore)

And finally the simple gift of a tasty salad dressing with no calories or salt. Mostly a dream since I subsist on mainly vegetables and some poultry. When recently exploring a boutique supermarket and near the bin of mostly green bananas, I found a dressing that was real low in calories and salt. I don’t understand. I expect hidden ingredients of carcinogenic flavoring devices to hide out until some research arm at the turn of the next century says the ingredients are bad for you; but so far so good. Being a flexitarian (no red meat) I need excess lettuce and some chicken. So hooray for better living through chemistry and this Marie person’s dressing. I’ll keep you posted to see if I’ve lost several inches of height. I know New Jersey is going to lose several hundred feet of shore line once global warming closes in. I just realized the simple gift of Asbury Park and its music will have to move miles inland one day. And what will become of me and my small family?

http://www.arlanfeiles.com/

NOW HERE THIS: a bit of an advertisement. BUT there’s a very unusual upbeat funny precious 2 minute video involving 102 year old Emily Cook who talks about the life briefly and then invites me back to her room. Not to be missed especially the last 23 seconds. PLEASE check it out and share it.

emily cook video she’s 102 years old.

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