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Two Amies let their lights shine at the Adams Center, Tuesday night. First, Amy Martin enthralled the crowd with her lovely voice and charming lyrics.

The president of the Jeannette Rankin Peace Center introduced Amy Goodman, and gave her a bag of gifts and a quilt to remid her of Missoula. I have written of Amy on this blog, before, because she is one of my heroes. She's a journalist in the true sense of the word, and as brave as the heroes whose lives she cites as examples, Frederick Douglas, Susan B Anthony, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King. Her news hour, Democracy Now! is shown locally on MCAT, M-F, at 6 am and repeated at 10 am. On the satellite services, it is carried by LinkTV and Free Speech TV.

 
 Under the harsh lights of the Adams Center, Amy began to make her points, recite the supporting facts and figures and build her case. War is not the answer, but mainstream media has often acted as if it were. And mainstream media isn't really mainstream, when it doesn't report how the majority of us feel, nor is it doing its job when it doesn't cover the issues. 

We have work to do, to build free, non-profit media to maintain a lifeline of true news. She reminded all of the journalistic principle to follow the money. A lot of power changes hands with it, sometimes, and mainstream media is easily influenced by it, saying the news must be profitable. She gave a warning also about how the Internet can generate gossip, and digging past the rumors is often required. 

In the end, her message was uplifting: As others have fought for truth, we, too, can keep pushing for the truth. She told stories of modern heroes, such as the school kids who slipped W the letter questioning his signing statement regarding torture. Another group of high school heroes wrote their own play about the Iraq war, attempting to show the reality of it. When the high school refused to let the play go on, it was adopted bythe artists of Broadway, and the kids performed in New York. Those are the kinds of modern, young activists we should emulate. 

Mea culpa, mea culpa. I have a weakness for capturing other photographers plying their trade. 

Amy was promoting her third book written with her brother, and a thick crowd quickly formed seeking autographs. You can find all her books at one of my favorite places, Fact and Fiction bookstore, on Higgins, near Butterfly Herbs. 

Editorial comment: I am with the letter writers I have read in the Missoulian, who want to know why Democracy Now! is not on the radio here.

More Bitching and Moaning

I recently learned old folks can grow into allergies the way kids often grow out of them. Evidently, I have grown into some, and they are causing liquid to collect in my ears. Most vertigo is caused by this condition, water in the inner ear. Well, not water, exactly, more like mucous, snot if you will. An allergy triggers the body's defense mechanisms, histamines are formed, and liquids created to quarantine and wash away the imaginary invader. 

I became aware of the problem, when I went ass over teakettle in the wee hours of the morning. It was my usual early morning piss-call, when I open the intake on the stove a bit to warm the house before I get up approximately two hours later. My feet stopped in front of the stove, but my head didn't.  My gyro was kaput. My head wanted to continue in whatever direction it was moving. A darting look to the side made my head go round Exorcist style and produced a desire to puke. Looking up might send me over backwards. 

Many times, I have told you I'm old and slow. Well, now I'm even slower. I walk carefully, and do not turn my head hurriedly. Plus, the allergy medicine I'm taking makes me sleepy, and my best laid plans often turn to shit, when I wake up and realize it is time to go to bed. 

Many events on my calendar have been skipped. I have photos to work, but the computer puts me to sleep. So that is my whine at the current time. This, too, shall pass, and when it does, I will be trying to make up for lost time. I went to the Earth Day events in Caras Park today, and came away with some new shots of old favorites, Andrea Harsell and Tom and the Tomatoes, and also some shots of Green Star, a band I haven't captured before. 

Next weekend is full of stuff. Friday, April 24, will see my friends, the Full Moon Prophets, at the Union Club, while the Palace will be throwing a shindig called Carnivali. On Saturday, April 25, Zeppo will play the Top Hat. Also on Saturday night, Demonlily says she is going to have a "psycho-billy" show, which includes fire-eating, under the lights at the Other Side. You can bet the Kitchenpoet wants to visit all of these events. Can he? Will he? Hell if I know.   

Zeppo Ignites the Union Club

Chuck Lester was particularly stylish this evening.

Two of my favorite people.

Good Lord, Pete isn't wearing the yellow shirt. Check many photos of Zeppo on the flickr archive to see how significant this change is. 

Zeppo can swing, and I've seen them swing many times, because they are a zootown favorite. This night, however, threatened to burn the place down. It was that hot, as band and fans merged in heated song and dance far beyond the usual.

Andrea Harsell goes onstage for a number.

Later, there is a guest harp.

There was a young face to replace Larry in the middle of the horn section.

There's never a cover charge at the Union Club, and Zeppo will return there on Friday, May 25. 

A Smashing Tuesday Night in the Palace

The Palace has vaulted from smaller sibling or poor cousin to the Badlander to a great venue in its own right. There's still comfortable old furniture to lounge in and pool tables to play on. Since the stage was moved, the lighting and sound have been slowly, to a tight budget, improved. The music shows the Ritz partners' love of diversity. On Tuesday, March 31, Low Red Land came calling, from San Francisco. The trio put on a dynamic performance, and retired to catch their breath and watch the March of the Black Queen cap the evening.

 

Thomas Pendarvis is not to be outdone, when it comes to dynamic performances, and on this night he pranced, stomped and kicked with abandon. March of the Black Queen showed some fatigue, in the early morning hours, and although Thomas is too much the gentleman to complain, the late start annoyed him. It cut into my sleep, too. 

This band works so hard at their craft, sometimes their skill seems flawless. Thomas has his doubts, however, and always wants to work harder. If he were in charge, the music would start on time. That's a sure bet. 

For more shots of all three bands in the Palace this night, check the flickr archive. 

Places opened the show, and offered something fresh, from the dueling drummers facing each other in the back, to the acoustic guitar up front to open the set. The lead switched to an electric guitar later. I thoroughly enjoyed these guys. They have some upcoming dates here and in the Badlander, and I will see them again. 

Dauphine's Has Moved

After overcoming many obstacles and enduring many delays, Dauphine's opened in its new location in the Ritz building, alongside the Golden Rose, the housing authority and the Badlander. Entry is on Ryman, next to the barber shop. It can fool you, because the windows face Broadway, but you can't get in on that side. 

In addition to the hours and menu from the old location, Dauphine's will now have late night hours on Friday and Saturday, from 11p to 3a. People can fall right out of the Badlander lounge and land in the cafe, ready to eat. The people who had become tired of the Ox and the Pit, now have a handy alternative.

An Interlude

A bugle was sounding reveille, as I struggled against the waking process. As consciousness returned, I realized the bugling was just my own farting. First Friday left me in recovery mode all day Saturday, and I met today almost ready to roll again. Really rocking is out of the question for a little longer. I may have to cut back to making the scene every third night, because evidently I can no longer even cover every other night. 

Friday was a gas, and I should have some photos up on flickr soon, followed by best of images and a few words here. I knocked out the zootown underground this morning, in order to be less than a week behind. Coming soon: Tuesday at the Palace, with Low Red Land and the March of the Black Queen. Two big stories from First Friday was Ceretana's art and music, and Zeppo tearing the Union Club up. I'll be on that, soon. 

I've spent two days walking and sitting in the sun. It seemed good medicine for the crick in my neck, from too much computer time, and the stress of wondering what the next job will be, when the museum gig ends. 

The old coots' job program is prodding me to spread my wings, leave the nest and find a permanent job. I told them I didn't want a "permanent" job, because that just sounds too long, and because I just want to "keep food on my family" until I turn 62, late this year. I live cheaply and will be comfortable on social security. 

At the moment, finances are anything but comfortable. Some local business compromised a bunch of bank cards, and to protect me, my bank turned my ATM card off. I discovered this when I tried to pay for some photos I had printed. My card didn't work, although I knew there was money in the account. I've received my new card, but not the activation code, and can only access my money by check. There's less money in there, too, because my two week time sheet wasn't faxed properly, and a paycheck was missed. I'm beginning to think the money people are conspiring against me. 

The gone-to-hell-in-a-handbasket economy hasn't touched me so far, because I'm accustomed to getting by by the skin of my teeth. Statistics show three things are selling faster than ever: fast food, booze and guns. The last two seem a dangerous combination. Some enterprises I love are also doing well: museums, libraries and 2nd hand book stores. 

Speaking of museums, come by MAM and check out Sister Corita's art and the books available about her. She's one of my new heroes. She's been gone over 20 years, but in her time she was as revolutionary as Warhol. Fall by the museum and tell them the Kitchenpoet sent you. They won't know what you're talking about, but tell them anyway. 

TSMF Replaces Goddammitboyhowdy

Goddammitboyhowdy failed to appear, again, when I was at the venue on time and waiting. Last time, I arrived at the Lab to be told they wouldn't be showing. I've missed Goddammitboyhowdy (Isn't that a great name?) twice due to scheduling conflicts, when they played the Badlander and the Palace. Sooner or later, I will see them live onstage. In the meantime, I found their CD at Ear Candy for a mere $4.

Back to Saturday, March 28, in the zootown underground, TSMF showed up big time to fill the night's final spot. The big fellow up front is named Charlie, which is a plus in my book, of course. In size and congeniality, he reminds me of Tonsofun. The final result of the evening was I heard for the first time a band, which appears to be an up and comer in zootown.

Enthusiastic TSMF fans get into the act. 

Raw Nerves were the featured act from Portland. Valsalva Maneuver, from Kalispell, opened and were followed by the Juveniles. As usual, there are more images in the flickr archive.