El Paddy-o

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments
The backyard maple looks like it’s yearning for that canale to deliver a little water. Nope.

Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes. Off we go for another hot lap around Old Sol.

For a present the Universe gave me a rotten night’s pre-birthday sleep, then followed up with gale-force winds, airborne allergens, dust, and other particulates, and a head full of boogers, so there was no 72-mile bike ride. Not even a 72-minute ride. In point of fact, there was no ride at all.

Except the one in Herself’s Honda to El Patio on Rio Grande for a largish platter of sinus-flushing green chile chicken enchiladas with papas, beans, and sopaipilla, which as always was excellent. We had to eat indoors, though. It’s a rare day indeed when we shun El Patio’s patio.

Today dawned coolish and should remain so for our No Kings rally down at Montgomery Park. I’d like to shoehorn a ride into the day’s activities at some point, but smashing the State takes priority.

If the State tries to deploy chemical weapons, well, I’ll be armed with a little gas of my own. Turnabout is fair play.

27?

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 36 Comments
“72? I’m not buying it.”

After a largely sleepless night that may or may not have been age-related I awakened to the idea of flipping the script on this whole birthday deal.

“Instead of 72 I will be 27,” I decided.

But after further illumination via coffee I concluded that it would be a losing proposition in the long term.

Sure, I’d be 27 this year, 37, the next, then 47 … you get the picture.

But by 2031 I’d be tied with myself at 77 and after that the numbers go sideways at high speed.

So I guess it makes sense to be 72 today.

Beats being a freshly hatched egghead like the one pictured above, in Harundale, Md., circa 1954. What might he turn out to be if he’d gotten his start on March 27, 2026?

No, don’t ask A.I. I don’t want to think about it.

No kings (just one royal pain)

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ Leave a comment
Let’s give the TV-addled stumblebum a show worth watching on Saturday.

Yes, kids, it’s almost that time again — time to hit the streets and make a Joyful Noise Unto the Lard.

More than 3,000 No Kings events had been scheduled as of a couple weeks ago, with organizers and supporters alike hoping for a mammoth turnout:

Last June, more than five million people took to the streets across more than 2,100 events during the coalition’s first day of action. Then, more than seven million people protested across more than 2,700 events last October. The March 28 mobilization is the next step in this growing movement, with organizers anticipating it will be one of the largest single-day nonviolent nationwide protests in U.S. history.

It’s not a riot going on, or at least it shouldn’t be. And with any luck at all we won’t all wind up on Cellblock No. 9, wearing bruises and zip-ties. Here in The Duck! City we’re gonna be in a park, with shade trees and music, even a march! (Cue the revolution scene from “Reds,” but without all that winter garb.)

Rallies and marches can feel a tad performative, mostly because they are. But they help you remember that you’re not alone, it’s not just you or the Voices in your head, there really is something of a problem here, and if we’re lucky, and there are enough of us intent on doing something about it, we can use ballots instead of bullets because the last game in town that needs a shot in the arm these days is the funeral racket.

A mass thumbing of the national noses may also give an atomic wedgie to a certain diapered dictator at some point during his 24 hours per diem of TV-watching, assuming the legacy media actually turns on and tunes in.

Which is always something of an assumption. So, before you head out the door to your local No Kings gathering, call a couple TV stations and invite them to join the party.

No, not that party. Whaddaya think this is, a Warren Beatty movie?

‘Is that it, then? Is it over, do you think?’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments
The artist who created “The Triplets of Belleville” is at it again.

Finally — some good news for a change.

Sylvain Chomet, the French animator behind “The Triplets of Belleville,” is back at the ol’ drawing board after 15 years.

“A Magnificent Life,” in U.S. theaters Friday, is an animated biopic concerning Marcel Pagnol, a French playwright, filmmaker and author whose works celebrated the Provence working class, according to The New York Times (gift link).

The film, says Mother Times, showcases Chomet’s fondness for narratives set in the mid-20th century and protagonists who are artists or performers.

Which is all very fine, of course. And we should all dash out to see it at once, if not sooner. But the good good news is that the maestro is hard at work on a spinoff of “Belleville,” based on a story he wrote more than two decades ago, in which the triplets visit their 100-year-old father, who does not know that they spurned traditional employment to become cabaret singers. Says Chomet:

“It has the same feeling as my previous ‘Triplets’ film. It’s completely mad, and it’s quite a baroque movie with brand-new, very cartoony characters.”

Meanwhile, Chomet’s fans will probably not be surprised by his views regarding today’s soulless, cookie-cutter animation. Asked if there were any recent animated films he’s enjoyed, he mentioned Pixar’s “WALL-E” — which was released in 2008.

R.I.P., Augie Meyers

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 4 Comments
Augie Meyers rocking the Vox with Doug Sahm and a revived Sir Douglas Quintet in 1975.

Augie Meyers, whose work on the unheralded Vox Continental organ gave the Sir Douglas Quintet its signature sound, and drew the admiration of Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Willie Nelson, Tom Waits, and Your Humble Narrator, has bid us all adios. He was 85.

I was just starting to find my own musical way in the Sixties after the old man got us transferred to Randolph AFB at San Antonio, Texas. My folks were into the big bands — Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, etc. — but there was this whole new rough beast slouching toward America’s AM radios, and local boys Doug Sahm and his sidekick Augie were riding it.

“She’s About a Mover” was getting a lot of airplay in San Antone back in 1965. And while I didn’t know diddly about Tex (folks on base were from wherever) or Mex (beyond the little taco shop just outside the main gate), Augie’s Tex-Mex fingers grabbed me by the ear and held on tight.

Tweedle … deedle deedle deedle. …

Sahm left Texas for California because of course he did. Meyers eventually followed, and in 1969 we got “Mendocino,” which brought that old Sir Doug sound back to this newly and only moderately hairy (with a covert assist from a Mexican barber) would-be-hippie kid, now in Colorado Springs.

It was fun stuff to listen to; made you want to get up and move around. According to his New York Times obit, Meyers liked the Vox sound, “reminiscent of a merry-go-round or a circus calliope,” because “it could cut through the guitars onstage.”

Meyers would join Sahm again in the Texas Tornados, with Freddy Fender and Flaco Jiménez. He was the Tex-Mex supergroup’s last surviving original member, until March 7. Peace to him, his family, friends, and fans.