At Home On Piety Hill

I found this site linked at Pyromaniac and I was immediately smitten with Keith Drury’s essay, I’m a Camp Meeting Reenactor - are you?

I have a college buddy, Ken O’vell who is a Civil war reenactor. He spends summer weekends dressed up like a Union soldier and shoots his musket as he and others reenact old Civil war battles. As for me, I’m a Camp Meeting reenactor. Most every summer since I’ve been a lad I attend camp meeting services and get to experience camp meetings pretty based on the pattern of the 1800s. Camp Meetings are just a hair over 200 years old and their history is rich and informative. Actually experiencing an Old Fashioned Camp Meeting tells me more about who my denomination is than reading about a 1700’s up tight Anglican cleric, John Wesley. So I like camp meeting reenactments.

This guy is a published writer, but I’m captivated by his witty posts and good-natured pokes at the pop Christian culture on his blog. For example, take point # 7 from his emancipation proclamation of July 28, 2005 - I’m tired of being young— I’m gonna’ start being an old man today:

7. I’m gonna’ laugh more and take things less seriously. Everybody in the church is too serious—even young people. As a young man I’ve taken myself far too seriously and acted at times like the church was about to collapse. As an old man I now know that the church will survive all kinds of things. I’ve seen it survive past “emergencies” like holy laughter, WWJD, KJV-RSV, the Church Growth movement and the Prayer of Jabez so I now know it will make it through Purpose-Driven pot-holders. It survived Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and Tammy Faye so I know it will survive Brian McLaren, Rob Bell and Joel Osteen. And in the interest of being lighter I plan to make fun of things more and poke fun at people—especially Baptists and Nazarenes, who are my most frequent readers. Actually I think I’ll poke fun at people in the exact order of my readership. In fact I may have to make fun of lots of my own past writing too—I was far to serious a writer as a young man.

I hope you enjoy Keith’s stuff. Also, I added a few things to the left column today.

I promised Zombieslayer a post about my short venture into the world of record producers, fusion guitarists, “shred-heads” and, of course, those vultures who bring all fun to a halt — lawyers and record distributors. Dear ZS… I hope this meets with your approval.

One day sometime in 1990, I believe, I came home from work and Denise told me she had met some new neighbors and they were real nice. She said that “Mark” produced and recorded music – he was working on a children’s CD. I remember thinking to myself, “So, what’s new… everyone in Nevada City is recording a CD.” Well, we got together for dinner and I met Mark Varney and his charming family. He was a school psychologist and we talked about everything except music. The conversation turned to faith, so we invited them to church. One Sunday, Mark and I were chatting after our gathering and he told me that his brother was a record producer – Mike Varney. I said, “Do you mean Mike Varney of The Nuns?” His mouth dropped open and he said, “You’ve heard of The Nuns?” I said, “Sure, I’m a huge John Cipollina fan.” Well, we were instant pals and began gushing on about shared guitar heroes. he asked if I’d ever heard of Allan Holdsworth. “Sure! Gong and UK!”

As it turned out, Mark had his own record label, Legato Records. He had signed Frank Gambale and was about to produce a CD with Gambale and Holdsworth shredding over some fusion standards, with Chick Corea’s Elektric Band.

Here are some of the highlights of our association with Legato Records:

• Denise became the office and business manager, the FAX machine and phone were in our closet and much of the Legato catalogue resided in our basement!
• As the office and business manager, Denise had a wonderful phone relationship with some of the hottest young guitar talent of the late 80’s and early 90’s. As one unaffected by stardom and fame, she was the perfect “mother figure” to shepherd many a young, aspiring Berklee student through the contract process and into the grinder, er, I mean the music business.
• After proving ourselves competent and discriminating in our taste for searing guitar solos, Mark delegated to us the responsibility of picking up the five or six demo tapes we received daily at the PO Box and screening them. Mark was a busy man. I remember fondly coming home from work and playing speed metal, fusion and other forms of guitorture, full blast as Denise cooked supper.
• I drove Mark to Los Angeles to record Truth in Shredding and we stayed at my in-laws house for the weekend in the studio. I got to carry the master tapes (joy!).
• We found Frank Gambale at his home… he had just finished tiling his bathroom floor… part of a remodel he was doing himself. Frank was absolutely wonderful.
• We sat in the sound booth through the entire recording, with Frank Gambale soloing within a few feet, while the Elektric Band shared the studio. It was recorded live with very few retakes or overdubs.
• Mark and I drove the masters to Allan Holdsworth’s home, where we met his wonderful wife and children. Alan, his wife, Mark and I went out for supper at a posh Indian restaurant in Costa Mesa.
• Alan is a huge brew fan, so I joined him for a beer at his home.
• We left the masters with Alan, who recorded his solos and mixed the final CD in “The Brewery,” his private studio.

Another highlight was going down to the NAMM show in Anaheim in January to hobnob with the industry big-wigs and legendary musicians. I rubbed elbows with John Sebastian, Steve Morse, Neil Schon, Jorma Kaukonen and another hero, Harvey Mandel… In 1993, we got VIP passes to the Ibanez Axe Attack, a jam featuring Steve Vai, Joe Satriani, Shawn Lane, Paul Gilbert, Reb Beach and a few others I don’t recall… Lanny Cordola, perhaps?

But, it was really fun when the guys signed to Legato or appearing on Guitar on the Edge stopped by our booth. For example, here’s Mark with Blues Saraceno. As I recall, he was there with his dad, because he was too young to get his driver’s license. Quite the prodigy! And, he was very nice… In fact, all of the guys we met were smart, focused, polite and a pleasure to work with.

Renowned finger-picker Muriel Anderson was as sweet as could be. She and Denise got along very nicely. She’s also tiny, so we took a photo of her standing next to Mark on a chair.

Mike Varney, Mark’s famous brother and creator of Shrapnel Records dropped by to hand out promotional goodies! The fellow laughing on the left is Todd Duane, my personal favorite of all the guitarists Mark worked with. I spoke to him about his style and he explained that what I described about his music was the result of his being a drummer before he played guitar. He approaches the guitar as a percussion instrument! And, a heck of a nice guy… a real gentleman.

Tom joined Mark and I for this show and we got a photo of him with the legendary, now deceased, Shawn Lane.

But, best of all was our “trophy girl,” Denise. The guys all got a kick, finally meeting the “office manager” from the closet!

Yes, there we have many fond memories of the few years we were “in the music business.” But, the best thing of all was finding lifelong friends in Mark Varney and his family.

Denise knows where to shop… when she heard there would be a flea market at a local Lutheran church, she charged right over there. “The churches with the older congregations have all the really cool stuff.” She came home with the most beautiful Christmas tree skirt I have ever seen, as well as some retro Christmas ornaments and… a little “special occasion tree” like my Grandma Louise used to have. Actually, it was a manzanita branch that looked like a tree, about a foot tall. She would decorate it for every season or special occasion. Now, we have one.

The biggest treat was this beautifully illustrated Barbecue Book by the publishers of Sunset Magazine.

For those of you who don’t know, I love to barbeque and I have always dreamed of building a real brick barbecue and smoker in the back yard. Well, now I have some great plans! I prefer the “barbecue as shrine” motif, designing the entire yard around the “sacred flame” on an elevated platform.

The book is chock full of handyman projects and I recognized a number of them as fixtures on patios all over my childhood neighborhood. In fact, we had a couple of redwood lounges just like this one…

My Grandma, the one with the “special occasion tree,” had a barbecue almost identical to this one in her backyard in El Monte California.

Denise outdid herself again, finding a tasteful and appropriate birthday greeting for my 50th birthday at the local opportunity shop (Australian lingo for thrift store). Somehow, I can’t imagine finding a card with this sentiment at the local Long’s Drugs or fine gift shop, but such is the sad state of affairs here in 21st century America.

This pretty much captures the essence of our relationship, except that I enjoy washing and drying the dishes. With two of us at home now (Emma is as good as gone), it’s not a huge time commitment and contributes to good mental/emotional hygiene.

He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.
Proverbs 18:22

I sure do love Denise and the way she expresses her affection through thrift store treasures.

It was a Good Friday at work yesterday… a darling little five-year-old girl with red hair and green eyes came in to bring me a Spring flower bouquet. She and I sometimes chat through the Post Office boxes when she comes into the lobby with her grandma. She will say, “Bo?”

Instead of answering, I will pop the box from the inside and wave my hand, like Thing on the Addams Family or I will imitate the Cookie Monster through the mail drop. Those two characters seem to get the best response. Other times, I simply act like a real Postmaster.

I rummaged around for a flower vase, but the only thing I could find was this unused spray bottle in the custodial closet. I think it accentuates the bouquet (Spring flowers exploding or bursting forth) and the frosted appearance of the plastic gives it a muted, dignified look, focusing all attention on the flowers.

Because I am flower illiterate, I had to check with Denise to see what we have here. Let’s see, there are a couple of daffodils and a tulip. The others are grape hyacinth and your generic hyacinth.

There are some things I do know, however. Those of us who understand a little French, pronounce bouquet “boo-kwet” with the emphasis on the second syllable. If I was sure most of my readers were from Maine, I would have described my little friend as cunnin’, which is the approximate translation of darling or cute.

I was craving some Himalayan food on a sunny Saturday last Fall, so I decided to head down the Rough and Ready Highway to Didi Bhai. As I neared the old market, I saw an estate sale on the left side of the road. I couldn’t stop because I was on a mission: a buffet of curry, chutney, nan bread… you understand. So, on my way home I stopped and browsed around the small house and yard for treasures. I found one. The deceased are Christians and I found a few missing books for my library. There was also a Bible in near mint condition… leather, New American Standard… perfect for special occasions! So, I bought it… I think I paid $1. Later that week, I picked up the Bible to pull out old bulletins and other odds and ends. It had a cool bookmark in it with a list of all the books of the Bible. Then, I noticed a newspaper clipping that looked very familiar… it was a Letter to the Editor and the title was Only one God. It was folded in half, so I turned it over and there was my name! It was a Letter to the Editor I had written over 15 years ago and this person had clipped it out and kept it in their Bible all this time!

I bought some of those little library book pockets and put one in the Bible for the clipping. It will also include a little note about how it came to me… for posterity and to remind myself, from time to time, that God is involved in the little things, as well as the big!

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in — behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Psalms 139:1 - 6

Teeing Off at the Kabul Golf Course

Regardless of your opinion of Bush’s War on Terror, I think everyone can agree that these freedom fighters have earned the respect of the world. Many groups suffered under the tyranny of the Taliban, but at least two members of the Kabul Gulf (Golf) Club have paid dearly for love of the game, going all the way back to the Soviet occupation in the 80’s.

The term “bunker” is no metaphor on a course where “the entire area has had to be cleared of mines in recent months and three Soviet tanks and a multiple rocket launcher have been removed.” Hazards also include such immovable obstructions as a bombed out barracks and country club with collapsing walls.

But, these two enthusiasts see a brighter future for golfing in Afghanistan, now that the area is teeming with western aid workers. Anyone up for a foursome?