Ukulele Bob's 2011/2012 Music Newsletter

2011 was a fulfilling and wonderful year musically for yours truly. Not only have I been playing more than ever, but I am also seeing musical friends’ endeavors pay new dividends for them (and sometimes thus for me), and that’s icing on the cake. In 2011, I:

1. Started playing farmers markets in central Contra Costa County. These are perfect gigs – low-pressure, good chances to try new approaches without fear and generally during the day. My next two are Tuesday, Jan. 3 from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at Kaiser Medical Center, Walnut Creek, CA, and Saturday, Jan. 7, from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Pinole Farmers Market, Fernandez and Pear, Pinole, CA.
2. Played more open mics, at Armando’s in Martinez, First Street Café in Benicia, and Panama Red Coffeehouse in Vallejo. Thanks to Debbie Kuhl Wendt, Finding Fable and Kevin Radley for making these happen! My next will be at First Street Cafe, 440 First St., Benicia, CA, at 7 p.m. on Saturday, Jan. 7.
3. Played a lot with Awed Ducks. We continue to practice regularly and during the past year played open mics, the Give A Dam Martinez Beaver Festival, and the Berkeley Old Time Music Convention Band Contest. We’re getting good audience response. We have a 30-minute featured slot at the Panama Red Coffeehouse at the Ferry Terminal in Vallejo at 5 p.m. on Sunday, Jan. 29. Thanks to Ducks Jim Brunelle, John Gallagher and Peter Sproul for  this Big Fun! 
4. Continued to play fairly regularly with my “new” Berkeley music mates Dale Zola and Bill Devore, in BBZ. We love getting together and hope to play our first open mic in 2012. Thanks to Dale and Bill for this new music outlet! 
5. Played flute and tinwhistle in an irish ballads session with Barry Melton, Kevin Fagan and Jay Johnson at Lefty O’Doul’s in San Francisco, Looks like we’ll do another in January. Thanks, guys, and thanks, Lee Housekeeper! 

 2012 goals: 

1. Celebrate Bev’s and my 50th wedding anniversary in June. Thanks to her for all her patience with my music pursuits (and other quirks)! 
2. Get my long-delayed first album of original songs done. 
3. Publish a short book of collected poems. 
4. Attend the Wintergrass Festival in Bellevue, WA, in February for what I believe is the 12th out of the past 13 years. 

If you're on Facebook, check my page (Robert Loomis) for news of music activity and for my weekly Tuneweek column. Here are two links to some of the music I've made:

http://www.myspace.com/307057832

http://www.youtube.com/user/ukebob?feature=guide

I hope to put up some new material during 2012, so stay tuned! Have a healthy, happy and prosperous New Year!

October Post: Grampy Update

Missed September due to busyness and laziness, so here's an update on yrs truly:

Played two farmers markets last week, Martinez on Thursday and Pinole on Saturday, had a great time at both. But -- here's the mea culpa -- didn't take along my autoharp, although I had played it quite a bit at my last prior farmers market in Concord. Reason: laziness. The night before the Martinez one I thought about taking it but realized I'd have to tune it ... and was sleepy, so ...

Then it was so easy just playing the guitar and ukulele at the Martinez market that I said the heck with it and just took along the guitar and electric uke again to Pinole. Traveling light, and all that. I wonder if anyone else here suffers from multiple-instrument disorder? If I could play my ideal gig, I'd have EVERYTHING available: Guitar, autoharp, uke, banjos, harmonicas, flutes, Native American flutes, pennywhistles, percussion ... but until I have roadies, it just ain't gonna happen.

I am using only my Crate Taxi portable amp at my gigs now, as it has a mic input and an instrument input and sounds darned good. I'd much rather use my Crate Acoustic 125D amp, but most farmers marts have no power access and it isn't battery-powered. It has two instrument inputs and one input for either vocals or instruments, so with two instruments, I can have everything plugged and ready to go thru one amp. It sounds GREAT! The only problem is that it is way heavy and my old bod' is beginning to object to lifting heavy objects. Would love to have one of those Bose systems, but unless I won the lottery last night, that just ain't happenin'!

I recommend farmers markets to anyone who is ready to play out, and who wants a low-pressure gig. I'm finding these a great way to become comfortable performing and to work on my chops. My guitar solos are (slowly) improving by necessity and I feel free enough at these not to worry about mistakes.

Winter is approaching (or what we Northern Californians call winter) and I have no more farmers marts scheduled unless they call me to fill in for someone. So I'm going to go to work on some other music projects that have been on the back burner for too long. Among them: I hope to post some more vids to YouTune and at least get a good start on my oft-delayed CD. It would be great to have a CD to sell at the farmers marts.

Oh, and gotta break out the yuletunes and get ready for busking and for our annual You'll Yule Sing party.

In the meantime, this week's fun includes rehearsing a couple of flute duets with a friend: Mozart's Ariette and an Allegro by Haydn. At the same party on Saturday where we will play these, I'll read a couple of poems that are part of a book I hope to self-publish by the end of the year, Homage to Schwitters. A friend who is a collagist, Susan Jokelson, is providing collages to go with the poems.

Had a wonderful road trip north a couple weeks back for the Second Annual Great Northwest Ham 'n' Jam 'n' Clam Session at Alan and Bobbi Campbell's in Ashland, OR. Wonderful hosts, two days of great jamming with fantastic musos and Bev got to visit her cousin Maryann in Grants Pass. Bev and I then took two days of R&R at a fine B&B, Turtle Rocks Inn in Trinidad, CA. Much needed and beautiful with the famous CA clear and crisp autumn coastal weather. 

OK, enough. A great month to all!

Music-Go-Round

Last night was culmination of four days and nights of music fun the likes of which I hadn't had since going to the California Worldfest a couple of years back:

Thursday: Went to Winters with old pal Kevin Fagan for his recording session at a studio run by Sam and Lori Hawk (who have their own fine group, Finding Fable). It was my first up-close and personal look at what can be done with a click track and a digital studio. Quite amazing! They had Kevin record his song for the evening 10 times, picked out the best track and dropped in fixes from the other tracks as needed, e.g., a consonant that was poorly enunciated, etc. I laid down several diatonic harmonica tracks that Sam is working into a single, harmonic track for the solo break. Awesome, but it revealed how little I've been playing diatonic harmonica the past couple of years. However, simply apply digital patch techniques and you'd never know how many fluffs there were!

Friday: My first practice with Barry Melton and the Fishwraps, a Celtic-American quartet (for lack of a better term). We're playing Celtic tunes, including Rosin The Beau, Leaving of Liverpool, Jug of Punch, Dicey Riley, etc. Best of all, it's a rare chance for me to play flute, whistle and tremolo harmonica, something I do almost none of in my other music groups. Best of all Barry (of Country Joe & The Fish in the '60s-'70s) complimented my playing! Nice to be praised by a pro! Others in the group include Kevin Fagan and Jay Johnson, they of the sweet Irish tenor voices (Kevin also plays guitar). Barry M. also sings and plays guitar. So far my voice is not a factor, which is kind of a relief after all the other singing I do. Nice to just be a sideman!

Saturday day: First, an old friend's annual Tiki Joes party in Petaluma. This gathers together the families and an extended family of folks that first began hanging out together in the '60s. The hostess is a second-generation member of one of those families, and altogether there were four generations of that now large original contingent present at the party. Among these are a large number of pro and semi-pro musicians, so several groups played, including Patchwork, the Detroit Disciples and my own Awed Ducks. Or at least three of the four Ducks. All played well and it is always a highlight of each year to catch up on what's going on in the lives of old friends. And the food!!! BBQ, vegan, you name it. There are always new first-timers attending and it's fun to see them a bit stunned by the caring, loving atmosphere and all the great music. One highlight: 4th Generation Baby Ernie Renne, age 3.5, in his Mom Tara Renner's arms singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with huge unabashed enjoyment. The talent carries on!

Saturday, late evening: Awed Ducks (three of us) played a three-song set at an open mic at First Street Cafe's Upstairs in Benicia, CA. This is consistently the best open mic I've been to. Each act gets 15 minutes and there is a drawing for a 30-minute featured slot at the next session. We were the closers this week and were really well received, even without our Dobro/banjo player. The audience sang along on the chorus to Rubber Dolly and on the "That's right!" responses in Women Are Smarter. And they dimmed the house lights and raised candles and sang along with the choruses when our harmonica player, Peter Sproul, sang I Shall Be Released. I was on guitar and vocals and Jim Brunelle was on bass guitar and vocals. Great fun and so wonderful to be well received!

Sunday: Got to just listen and enjoy as I took my wife Beverly to the first installment of her upcoming birthday gifts, a show by the Be Good Tanyas at The Independent in San Francisco. She was a bit weary after our activity Saturday and did some grumbling about me "forcing" her to go out again, but I knew she would enjoy it once she was there. The Tanyas are one of her favorites, a great Americana/New Old-Timey group from Vancouver, B.C., and hardly ever play in the Bay Area (this may change with the crowds they drew Saturday and Sunday nights at the club), so I jumped at the chance to get Sunday night tickets despite the busyness of the preceding days. We arrived early enough to get seats (a rare commodity at this open dance floor-style club) after a great supper at Herbivore, a nearby vegan restaurant. The show was fantastic, I'm pretty sure we were the oldest folks there, and afterwards, Bev thanked me for getting her out to see the show. Here are some samples of the Be Good Tanyas for those interested:

http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=be+good+tanyas&aq=3&oq=be+good+

Happy Webtrails, Bob Loomis

July Post (Late Again)

Nothing to report here for July in the way of creativity, been very busy with music pursuits and other pursuits.

June Post: Bottoms Up!

Been Italy traveling for three weeks, so a bit late again this month. Sorting old files on my laptop I found this, and since we're busy catching up on home chores, it'll do:


We’re going
to get
To the bottom
of this!


We’re going
to get
To the bottom
of this!


We’re going
to get
To the bottom
of this!

Bob Loomis
© 2004

May Post: The crows are alarmed

The crows are alarmed at our cat Stumpy. She sits on the picnic table blinking as if to say “Who are these large, black birds that are so disagreeable? Why are they picking on us? We would never attack birds that large.” Stumpy is the smallest, most aggressive cat of our five. The others stay out of sight. “It’s karma for your depredations,” I say, referring to her role as the Goddess of Doom to lizards. She looks away, pretending not to understand.

hey crows,
why all that May Day over
one small cat?
Shut up
so I can practice flute!


(c) Bob Loomis (with thanks to Linda Papanicolaou for help editing)
05-31-2011

April's Post: These paintings by dead poets

Again not much in the way of new writing this past month, so I'll post one of the poems from a work entitled Homage to Schwitters, an example of word collage writing. I and collagist Susan Jokelson are putting together a book of these, with one collage paired with each poem. Hope you enjoy this Beat-flavored work:

These paintings by dead poets of resurrected love … graceful lonely versifiers searching for antique hay in fields of unknown soldiers … bottled-up mourners laughing mightily at jokes on us … urge vote for blind politicians leading blind puppets … fill days with heartfelt gestures calling for independence for all suburban pets … cite unmistakable upsurges in efforts to attack imaginary states … say it’s all in many ways a measure of broad bandwidth sounded on tarnished trumpets applauded by amateur strumpets … we keep marching … hope for one honest sacrificial lamb chop … pound out rhythm on Native American drums … bury meat hooks in pectoral flesh … fly outward round Maypole … hope resultant warriors equal to eternal task … pray god help us please at least look good … so we can strut like cocksure dandies … so we can end loneliness with dances of redemption …

© Bob Loomis
01-06-10 / 01-23-10

March Entry: The Old Singer

Not much in the way of poetic inspiration this month ... but I'll offer this small token:

Stumbling in midtune
the old singer turns miscue
into joke ...
frets about it afterward
talking with the band ...

(c) Bob Loomis, 2011

February Post (Late Again)

We're on the road on our annual trip to visit friends near Olympia, attend the Wintergrass Festival in Bellevue, WA, and do a week of R&R in Cannon Beach, OR, so of course I forgot to post for February before the month was up. Herewith a better-late-than-never poem:

Now sweet young things
look right through me
on rapid transit --
where's the stop
for the Fountain of Youth?

(c) Bob Loomis, 02-02-2011

January Post: Whatever Happens, Happens

I wrote this in reply to a poem by Jennifer Simon on The Well (kind of a thinking person's Facebook). You can view the whole thread, if you are a Well subscriber, by going to the topic More Work: Poems by Conference Members in the Poetry conference and starting with entry 573. Here's my part of what was a roundabout discussion in poetry:

Whatever Happens, Happens

Ah, yes, that was our band's motto
& as The Geezers we more or less continued it
even after band co-founder and
major mainspring Mike Robertson
died, claimed by some sort of cancer
wrapped around his lower trachea
in a way that prevented treatment.

We watched him waste away,
he who already had beaten throat cancer
several years before
and had at last found his new mate,
and I sometimes think
of the oddness of our motto
in light of that latest whatever.
None of us wanted to accept it,
especially him.

But the music plays on,
we dance the dance
and pay and/or play the piper
each in his own way,
still hoping, even as the road sign
"Dotage Ahead" becomes legible,
that no matter what,
we can put off that last whatever
forever.

(c) 2011, Bob Loomis

December's Posting ... A Bit Late

Even with the most painful loss of our daughter Shannon and resulting emotional and material upheavals, 2010 has been a year that included many blessings. We’ve been able to help our two grandsons cope with their tragic loss. I’ve gotten to take some memorable trips with Beverly and friends and look forward to our annual trip to the Wintergrass Festival at the end of February. I’ve been able to begin playing mandolin again, so far without the left-hand tendon problems of the past. I’ve written a few new songs, and had some success and good feedback at West Coast Songwriters competitions and other open mics. I look forward to 2011. May it be a year of good health and happy, creative experiences for everyone.

Christmas Day --
rain by buckets
on bare trees

(c) Bob Loomis, December 2010

Thanks for the Future

I sort old photos
and memories,
our oldest grandson fills out
his college app ...
his younger brother
practices for his band's
appearance at the high school.
Life plays and dances
to its own rhythms.
We watch
and sometimes play and dance, too,
glad to have had the chance.
We thank the Great Spirit
for this perfect day.
Let us walk in beauty
all the way.

Halloween Haiku (October Post)

Halloween
memories haunted
by our daughter

tears but no fears
this Halloween ... grim reaper
called way early

Halloween
her orange and black wall hanging
suits the night

day of dead saints
we remember
how she loved Halloween

Here and there
around the house, her gifts
bequeath her love

(c) Bob Loomis, 10-31-2010
Concord CA USA

Late Again! The September Post

Just since this morning
the laundry basket
lined with autumn leaves ...

Bob Loomis
09-30-2010

Running Again, Sort Of

Note: I'm a bit late with my August post, but here it is.

I am running again, running from grief, running from sorrow. running not as I did when I was 40 and running 10-mile workouts at 8 minutes per mile, but jogging short intervals, a tenth of a mile in between walking intervals: 200 left-foot walking steps to warm up, then alternating 100 jogging and 100 walking steps out the trail a mile and then back in with 200 walking steps at the end to cool down.

Occasionally, I see wildlife: Many coyotes over the years, recently one carrying a ground squirrel in his mouth and loping leisurely along, scarcely glancing my way as he slipped into the woods. I see many hawks, usually redtails, and never tire of them. Cottontails, red squirrels, peregrines, quail, lizards, and the other day we saw the most beautiful rattler we’ve ever seen, iridescent. He must have just shed his old skin. I almost stepped on him but leaped four feet to the side in midstride when I heard his dry whirrrrrr! For that brief instant his presence restored the alacrity of youth! We faced each other then he turned and slid into the tall grass, tail still whirring, waving farewell as we thanked him for the warning.

The hills are dry and yellow-brown as September’s song commences. I still think of Shannon but already sadness is … well, not receding, but now arrives accompanied by resignation each time it hits. What is, is and cannot be changed. As Dodo Miller always said and sang, “Life goes on.” She was correct, of course.

So I run again, recalling how I ran in younger days, when I ran to escape responsibility, to flee the pressures of job, of the fathering and husbanding I really didn’t know how to do. I am now I hope a much better grandfather than I was a father. Either way, I run out, but always return, wondering how many more years I’ll be granted this gift.

The gift of running has been passed along, apparently. Cameron, our eldest grandson, has joined the ranks of runners, perhaps also running from his grief, but also because he wants to. He’s gone out for the high school's new cross-country team. That makes me happy: to see another in my line lace up the shoes and fire up the endorphins. May he find as much joy in it as I did and do still in my somewhat feeble way.

Sometimes I dream of running. I am jogging along some familiar street and my stride becomes longer and longer and stronger and stronger until each step is an almost flying and I am bounding past the other runners, and taking even longer strides that are now almost flying! Then, just as I begin to soar away into the sky, I wake up, back to earth again.

Life goes on. The earth repeats her cycles, making necessary adjustments, recovering from disasters, ignoring the sorrows and joys of humans, but also providing comfort in her wild beauty and the possibility of fulfillment. Shannon’s run has ended. Ours goes on. May we meet at the finish.

Song for Shannon

On June 20, 2010, our lovely daughter Shannon Christine Loomis, 43, took her own life. It was a tragic end to an eight-year struggle with bipolar disorder. Her obituary, with a link to a guestbook, is here:
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/contracostatimes/obituary.aspx?n=shannon-christine-loomis&pid=143894026

I am working on a poem in her memory, a short section of which is this month's post:

I

After her death,
Her cat waits at the front door
meowing.
We sit staring,
Still expecting to hear
Her footsteps on the stairs.

Among her papers
The eulogy she wrote
For her cat, Godzilla.
He sat on the tub’s edge
During her darkest times
Keeping her alive.

This cool morning breeze
She will no longer feel.
Summer and the other seasons
Roll on without her,
Now we must do the same
Though it breaks our hearts.

Our daughter, gone.
We hold in our hearts
The memories
Of her best times,
The love she shared
So willingly with others
In their need,
The gift she had
For nurturing friends
And children.

The morning breeze
stirs the red oak leaves
whispering her name.
She cannot answer.

Song 48 for Beverly Loomis

On the occasion of our 48th wedding anniversary:
By Bob Loomis

We had no intention
Of lasting this long.
Back then life was simple:
Some laughter, some song.

But now here we are
After 48 years,
No known end in sight
But the one we fear.

Yes, we still laugh,
We still love and sing
Though lately our dance
Has somewhat less spring.

We still smile a lot
And love the old songs
Of life’s music track
As we journey along.

There’s not much to say
After I love you’s said
But we know we’d start over
If we could carry the sled

Up the hill for one more run
Down the slippery slope
(We know that won’t happen
But we can hope).

So just take my hand
And sit in the back yard
And know it’s been worth it
No matter how hard.

Look into my eyes
And share this one truth:
In love we’ve been lucky,
Thank the gods & forsooth!

-- For Beverly with love,
(c)06-20-2010

May Poem: Till Strips of Cactus

Work continues on Homage to Kurt Schwitters, so this month I'm posting another poem from that work in progress:

Till strips of cactus cover muted sobbing of coroners’ deputies with medicinal spines … till lost faces give love to celluloid mummies … till end of thyme & rhyme … till Everest crumbles atop Dutch apple pie … till solons act to empower idealistic surgeons … till collectors of tardy, tawdry minutae find hollow logs for shelter … till woman with obsolete grocery cart finds discarded hamburger wrapped in 14k gold foil … till we recover all lost words in found forgotten manuscripts written with Lindy ballpoint pens in ancient tongues … till Moses lets Red Sea depart … till Sahara goes green again … till Mommy tells last of red-hot Daddies to cavort with fire engines & beer-belly bailiffs … till final triumph of Reason heralds New Age of gropeless sex … till bank bandits stop wearing pantyhose masks … till remains of the day are laid to rest in temporary vault of night … till we run out of elliptical romances whispered only in purple undersea grottoes … till music goes round and round and comes out here … till Kerouac blesses consensual iambic pentameter in Latinate murmurings … till then, my friend, till then & then some …

© Bob Loomis
01-22-2010

April Poem Posting: The Top 500 Poets List

The Top 500 Poets list
awaits mouse or muse,
not sure which …
Is my mouse
my muse?
Does my mouse
in da house
inspire me
or does my spouse?
Does my mouse
in da house
make my poems click?
And then there are
the Classic Poets
all waiting
at the corner of
Hubris and Pride …
or is it the corner
of Rhyme and Meter?
Or Words and Wisdom?
Or simply a tiny back alley
in the guidebook
of literary history?
Rhetorical questions
posed on a rainy Tuesday
when neither mouse
nor muse seem interested
in doing much
more than this.

(c) Bob Loomis
04-30-2010

March Pome 2010

This month's poem is a hay(na)ku, a three-line verse form in which 1, 2 and 3 words are used in succeeding lines. Google the term and you'll find Web sites on the topic. The poem:

Wind,
Light from
The east and

Foliage
On the oaks
Has overnight become

Thick
Enough to
Block the view

From
Second story
Resort condo window

But
Not the
Roar of motorcycles

On
Their spring
Gold country runs

Nor
Happy cries
Of children playing

In
The dry
Wash below the

Balcony:
“Mom! I
Caught a lizard!”

We
Sip coffee
Above it all

Remembering
The time
Just last year

When
We stayed
Here with the

Kids
And grandkids
For Geezerpalooza Eleven

Our
Annual music
And potluck gathering

Revived
After a
Three-year hiatus.

Now
The condo
Seems somewhat empty

Without
The company
Of our descendants.

But
It’s nice
To have some

Time
Alone together
Too, nice to

Be
Here while
It’s quieter than

It
Was in
Late summer 2009.

Nice
To be
Here, be alive

Together
After all
These many years

Though
In retrospect
It hardly seems

Long
Enough even
After four decades.

We
Give thanks
For being allowed

To
See another
Spring in Twain’s

Celebrated
Jumping Frog
Mother Lode country …

Treasure
Indeed beyond
Measure and not

Hidden
After all!

(c) Bob Loomis
03-29-2010