Jim Mitchell, Booking Agent, Crook Extraordinaire

 

It's 1982, my wife at the time, Lynda, me, and our newborn son, Clint, move to Hawaii.  I've given Lynda bass lessons for a month while we were still in San Diego.  We spent four hours a day, five days a week, drilling her.  To her credit, she wasn't lazy about it, she put in the time, she did the work.

So, we're setting out to put a band together.  The first venue we come across was Pecos River Cafe, in its original location at the Pearl City Shopping Center.  We're of course, doing what we can to find competent players, and at first, well, not so much with the competent players.  We had Pumpkin Don on drums, horrible, and with the need to be in charge, even though it was my band.  Needless to say, he didn't last long.  There was Gene Davis, a complete wannabe with no talent, and an even worse attitude of wanting to be in charge.  At Pecos, our pay included drinks from the bar.  After a couple of weeks, one of the owners politely calls me into his office to tell us they need to put a limit on the drink tab.  I said it was not a problem, that we don't drink.  He said, "Well, Gene does, he puts away drinks like there's no tomorrow, like ten or more per night" - and that's mixed drinks.  I had no idea, but I whole heartedly agreed.  He (Gene) also stole our name, we were "Dakota" (Lynda came up with it), Gene went down to the Commerce and Consumer Affairs office and registered the name in his name.  So, when I had to send him on his way - for a few reasons, one of which was that he had punched Lynda - right in the face.  So, we then named our band "Rio", which we used for the next ten years.  And yes, I registered it right away before we announced it.  It was lucky for me that a person warned me that Gene would do something like that.  We could have used the name for a length of time, and Gene could have sued us, and probably gotten money, among other things.

Ok, so the main subject of me writing tonight is Jim Mitchell.  He was a booking agent who had had a successful booking agency for the past ten years.  He was the only one booking country acts, he had connections in all the military clubs on the island, as well as being the manager of the Cowboy Inn.  So, he approaches me while I'm playing at Pecos, shifts things around, pulls me out of there so he can put his wife's band in.  The name of her band was Tina Marie And The White Buffalo Band.  They weren't good, people didn't care for them, they had no following.  But Jim Mitchell had married Tina.  For the record, she was 23, Jim was 63, fat, sloppy, cigar smoking crook from hell.  Being that Tina was all about her ego, she was ok to have married this horrible person.  So, I give him exclusive rights to book my band, figuring I'd be playing in all the military clubs, and the Cowboy Inn.  Well, nothin' doin'.  The first month he booked me 21 dates, I thought that was ok.  Then it quickly went downhill from there, by the third or fourth month, we were down to 10 nights a month.  Tina, on the other hand, was being booked seven nights a week, every week.  This goes on for about a year.  Why I put up with it for that long, I'll never know, I guess I as young and naive, thinking it would get better at some point.  Well, it didn't.  My wife and I are struggling to make ends meet, falling behind on things.  At about the year mark, I don't know how this happened, but three different managers of three different military clubs call me at home.  They inform me that they had been trying to get me to play at their club for a year, but Jim Mitchell keeps telling them we're booked up, but Tina happens to be open on those nights.  As it turns out, per my conversations with these managers, I was open on 90% of the nights that Jim was telling them I was booked.  After the third call, I fly down to Jim's office, I get in his face and tell him about my conversations, that I am now aware the he had been lying to the three club managers, and probably other managers of other clubs, and that he could stick his booking agency.  So, I started going out booking my band.  A musician in one of the independent bands, that I'd never even knew existed, called me and offered me to sub for his band on dates that he couldn't make.  I think the band was called "High Country".  So, with filling in for him, and what dates I booked on my own, after about three months, we were working 20, 25 nights a month.  Not only that, but what Jim was telling us the pay from these clubs was -  he was shorting us.  He was telling us we were getting $200 - $250, while we were actually getting $300 - $350.  Plus he was taking his 15% out.  So, now the other 4 or 5 other bands that Jim Mitchell had been booking, saw that I was doing better on my own, they all fired the guy and started booking themselves.  This guy had everybody threatened and scared, as in, "If you don't go through me, you don't work".  So now he only has his wife's band to book, and nobody wanted her, so the only place she could play was at the Cowboy Inn - where he was manager.  In a nice twist of fate, the owner of the Cowboy Inn had gotten wind of what Jim was doing - booking Tina 25 out of the 30 available nights - while people were beyond sick and tired of her.  He fires Jim, hires a house band - Warren Johnson And The Gator Creek Band.  So, Jim has no bands to book, and nobody wants Tina, he's not managing the Cowboy Inn anymore, so now he has nothing.  The next thing I know, he's in Arkansas selling tires at his In Law's tire shop.

Let me backtrack and give you an idea of some of the horrible stuff he did.  Besides lying to all those club managers for that year, he tried several other tricks.  There was Wheeler Air Force Base, the Enlisted Men's Club.  I had worked there something like once or twice while I was being booked by Jim.  I had a following around the island from the places I did play.  So, what Jim did is, he would book Tina, and advertise my band.  Not only did some of the patrons tell me, but one of them showed me the poster that was still up in the hallway that said bigger than shit, "RIO", on whatever date it was.  So, then there's Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station Enlisted Men's Club.  Sundays were Rock & Roll Sunday, where the EM club would be packed with young, rowdy Marines.  So, he books me there on a Sunday, figuring I would fail - us being a Country Band playing on Rock & Roll Sunday.  Well, the band before us was a full on Rock & Roll band.  They weren't very good, but they were a Rock band.  We were outside the loading area waiting to load in.  We could hear the room full of guys - booing to beat hell, yelling, carrying on.  The band gets done, we load in, start playing.  We did our usual rowdy Country Music, including a few fiddle songs.  The Marines had a blast with us.  I'm sure it didn't hurt us any that we had Lynda - who looked like a supermodel - in her tight fittin' jeans.  I turned out to be a great day, the guys couldn't get enough of us.  So, the following Monday, I go into Jim's office to get my paycheck for the previous week, and he poutingly says, "So, you whipped the fiddle out on 'em, huh".  Another thing, Jim was a retired Air Force guy, he knew many of the people who ran the clubs.  I guess that's how he was able to book bands all those years.  So, it's New Year's Eve at Wheeler Air Force Enlisted Club.  Some smartass by the name of Sergeant Harris decides he's going to try to knock my mic stand over, comes dancing by with his elbow aimed at my mic stand.  I of course saw him coming, so I grabbed the stand so he couldn't knock it over.  After about the third time of this, I lean over, "Hey, you better fucking knock it off".  He of course, puffs his chest, says "Let's step outside".  I said I have one more song to do this set, then I'll see you outside.  I finish the song, he's huffing and puffing as we walk out to the parking lot.  We walk past four big black guys in suits - they were the bouncers, and the woman manager was also out there.  We get to the parking lot, and to make a long story short, the guy ends up a bloody mess.  The MPs come, they take their reports, and they tell me there's nothing to worry about, this happens sometimes.  Well, a couple weeks later, my drummer's mom, who worked at the Coast Guard base on Sand Island, tells Jerry (her son, our drummer) that Jim Mitchell called up after he'd heard about the incident, and convinced the Commander of all the Air Force bases on the island to punish me.  So, a couple weeks later, I get a certified letter in the mail, saying that "Due to this unacceptable behavior, you are hereby banned from entering upon any and all Air Force bases and installations in the State Of Hawaii for a period of one year"
.  So, he used this to see to it that I could not work at Wheeler, or, Hickam Air Force Base.  More to hide behind while he booked his wife's band - me being out of the way.

There's more, but you get the picture.  This was not a decent human being.  He did get what he deserved in the end, though, lost his agency, lost his managing job at the Cowboy Inn, and lost his connections that he used to promote his wife's awful band.  Selling tires at his In Law's tire shop in Arkansas is exactly where he belonged.

So, there are times when crappy people get what they earn, and this is one of 'em.  One of the most satisfying times I've had. 

Here's a link to a recording of my band, Rio, while we were playing at Pecos River Cafe - the newer location in Aiea.  It's me on banjo and fiddle, Denny Hemingson on guitar, Ed Riley on bass, and Lynda on drums.  I had a Peavey XR 1200, everything mic'd, and running into a Realistic (Radio Shack) cassette deck.   Foggy Mountain Breakdown At Pecos

To Steel or not to Steel

I had planned to lay down some pedal steel parts today, and maybe lead guitar and piano.  Well, my back is partway out.  If it goes all the way out, I'm toast for at least two months.

The body is worn out, my mind is also worn out.  I'm good with that, it just means that I lived, I went for it, and after all the times I got bashed in the head, I somehow got back up, and here I still am.  I'm definitely slowing down, I don't have near the energy I had up until a couple of years ago, don't have the stamina, and it takes me a few minutes to straighten up when I get up out of a chair, the car, or wherever else.  My thinking is slower, my reflexes are much slower.  Even my playing is not as pinpoint accurate as it once was.  I've always said, I don't want to get too old, where I can't do anything, or where I need to be taken care of.  I'm pretty sure that time is not too far off.  I've also said that if or when that time does come, I will check out on my own terms.  I've done things that most people wouldn't dream of doing.  I did without the luxuries of life - without the family life, the nice cars, the house.  I guess that stuff means something to most people, but in my case, I don't miss any of it, don't care about any of it, never have.

I come into my studio when I'm able.  There are many times when I get the urge to record something, or just come in here an plunk on one of my instruments, but don't have the energy to pull myself out of my recliner.  There is one little fact here that I'm sure plays a part in my current mental state, and my lack of energy and motivation.  I've been in a relationship with a woman who, I guess is just not right for me.  I'll skip all the gory details, just to say that I get grief whenever I leave the house.  My thing is, I should get grief where I live, I should be comfortable, and I should feel welcome.  I'm an easy guy, I don't care to tell another person what to do, what not to do, who not to talk to, who to spend time with, what to wear, where to go or not go.  I don't leave stuff laying around, everything has its place, and I always clean up after myself.  There are women who would greatly appreciate a guy like this.  I've never found her, I have always attracted controlling, jealous, insecure, angry, spiteful women.  I guess they see my soft spoken, unassuming personality, and they figure they can do and say anything they want, be rude, angry, and whatever else.  I've always had to be the one to escape the situation, at which time, of course, I'm the bastard in the story.  It's also at which time I end up on the receiving end of wrath that is mind numbing to say the least.  I'm always good to move on.  When I was a teenager, girls wanted nothing to do with me, and I was good with that.  Nobody was ever going to see me harassing any girl, guilting her, manipulating, bad mouthing, I just got on with me life.  If I were to run into any of them, I would laugh with them about what a socially backward dimwit I was.

So, while it would have been great to have had support from a significant other, it hasn't happened, probably never will.  That's life, so on with it.

I don't know what's going to happen.  I'm in Reno, working fairly steady, but not sure how much longer I'll be able to do what I do.  If it comes to where I have to check out, then I'll check out, I won't be sad about it, and I'll leave quietly.

So, I've been sitting at this computer for the past half hour, the back doesn't hurt any more than before, so maybe I can knock out some steel parts, guess I'll see how it goes. 

J.T. And The Rowdy Band

 

                                                    This is me at the Blaisdell hotel
                                                        downtown Honolulu, with
                                                       J.T. And The Rowdy Band.

 

It's still 1980, been playing in Susan Luke's White Stallion Band at Ducky's Silver Spur for the past five months.  One night, J.T. Cardens comes in.  He's 40 something years old, dyed in the wool country guy, singer, has his band - J.T. And The Rowdy Band.  He'd been trying different guys, looking for the right combination.  He came and talked to me about playing banjo and harmonica in his band.  He'd already had drums, bass, lead guitar, and him on rhythm guitar and singing.  I accepted, but before our first rehearsal, he calls me and asks if I would be ok to play lead guitar, maybe double on banjo and harmonica, he was not happy with his lead guitar guy.  That was just fine with me.  Still didn't know much, but was looking to learn.  Besides the regular rehearsals, he would take me to his house after gigs, play records by Merle Haggard, George Jones, Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Johnny Cash, and a whole bunch more of the classic country guys.  He would say, "Ok, now learn this guitar part".  So I would get it the best I could.  He did this with all those old time Country guys.  This is where I learned what Country Music is, the sound, the feel, and the guitar work.  We played in all the Military clubs around the island (Oahu), and all the civilian clubs.  We did events, fairs, it was a fun two years.  Around the two year mark, J.T. says we need to go to Nashville.  He says, "We're too good a band not to work".  The drummer, Tom "Stix" Bridges, gets an early out of the Army to accommodate, he's 41 at the time.  T. Taylor, the bass player, takes an early retirement, a cut in his pension, AND, he's got FIVE daughters - 11 years old up to 16 years old, and of course, his wife.  He's 46.  I have my 7 month pregnant wife.  We all agree to go to Nashville.  We all take a month to get our affairs in order, some stopped off at their hometown to rest a while, and we're all to meet in Nashville on a certain date.  If I remember correctly, it was the first of December when we were to meet.  So, we all get there, we have a two week booking in Sault St. Marie, Canada.  We head up there, play for the two weeks.  I have to add this part, because it's one of my most memorable times.  It's mid December, zero degrees, snow and ice everywhere.  We're on stage playing our usual old Country Music, when this older man, Elmer, limps up to the stage and asks if he could sit in on Dobro on the next set.  We agree to let him come up and play.  He asks me to tune his Dobro, so he hands me the case.  It's been in his car, so there's ice all over the instrument.  So, I let it thaw for a few minutes I tune it, and hand it back to Elmer.  Let me add, he is the nicest old guy you'd ever want to meet.  So, I get him all hooked up on stage, and he knows we're from Hawaii, so he asks if we know "Aloha Oe".  We start playing, and let me tell you, it was one of those tear jerking times that you just never forget.  If that wasn't enough, the very next night, a young guy comes up to us and asks if he could sit in on banjo - this was after he saw me play mine.  So, of course, we welcome him.  He gets up there, and his style is completely different from mine - what's known as the "Chromatic" style.  We do Foggy Mountain Breakdown, and a few others - same - one of those unforgettable times.  The guy's name was Manley Peters - also one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet.  It's times like that that make all the less than pleasant goings on in the business worth it.

So, we get done with the two week show, get back to Nashville.  J.T. calls a meeting at his house, at which time he informs us that, "I do not want to go on stage anymore".  The rest of us, of course, are in total disbelief.  It's late December, one of the worst snow storms in the history of the South.  So, we're all out there looking for jobs.  T, the bass player, lands a job at a truck stop, being a mechanic.  This guy is 46 years old - not a youngster, crawling around on his back under trucks and other vehicles, in the freezing cold.  I had (barely) got an apartment for me and my wife.  Tom, the drummer, also looking for work, came and stayed with us - sleeping on the couch, being that the apartment was a one bedroom.  After a week or so, he heads to San Jose, where his parents are living, I guess to try to start over.  I heard he got into computers, and did pretty well with it, so that was good.  Me and wife, Lynda, we head to Bryan/College Station, Texas to stay with a friend of Lynda's.  Keep in mind, she's 8-1/2 months pregnant by this time.  Backtracking for a minute.  Our drive to Texas was in a 67 Chevy Caprice with perfectly smooth tires.  I had borrowed a few hundred bucks from my mom to get it.  So, I'm driving in the blinding snow, snow and ice all over every inch of the roads.  Around midnight on one of the days, the car spins out and we land in a ditch - of course, the ditch is full of snow.  We're in Arkansas, there's hardly any traffic, but then here comes a tow truck.  They say, "We'll get ya out for $25".  My wife is outside the car walking around to stretch her legs.  I say, "I don't have $25 on me, but I'll send it to you when we get to Bryan.  It's two guys - they calmly get back into their truck and drive away.  Another attack of disbelief, but well, such is life among humans. So, I finally dig us out of the ditch - and two hours later, we're back on our way.  We finally arrive in Bryan, took me 33 hours to go 700 miles, no sleep, no rest, and a hot dog on the way.  Bryan is pretty near Austin, so I'm out looking for places to play music, join a band, something.  I put ads up all over town - nothing.  So, after a couple weeks of this, I call my old boss at AAMCO in San Diego - the LAST thing I wanted to do, and the boss says come on out.  So, I leave my 9 month pregnant wife in Texas, while I head to San Diego.  It took me a few weeks to get enough money to send for her, and by that time, she'd had the baby - Clint.  I guess we barely escaped death on that one :D .  I got an apartment through a friend at the shop, it was actually a nice little place, rustic, clean, and affordable.  So, there we stayed for the next four months, trying to survive, and trying to take care of a newborn baby.  Wasn't easy, but we did it - in spite of it all.

I guess I'll talk about the next chapter - where we moved back to Hawaii, with the plan to maybe start our own band.  So, there ya have it.

 Nother video.  I make all these videos in my little studio, play all the parts, sing all the parts.  Something I love more than just about anything.

 Cotton Fields

Corruption And Jealousy Doesn't Only Exist In Nashville

 

 

When I first started out, this would have been in the early 80s, I noticed the jealous ones.  Some were musicians, some were booking agents, some were radio people, and some were not in the music business at all.

I remember a guy who worked with me at Higa's Automatic Transmissions in the early 70s.  Al was the top R & R guy at the shop.  One day were were on our lunch break just talking idly, enjoying our lunch.  Out of the blue he says to me, "Nobody cares what #2 or #10 does, they want #1".  I don't know why he would have said that to me, because I was not very good at anything that he knew about.  I was new at transmissions, I was mostly cussing out the cars.  There was never any discussion about my Little League Baseball time, or my High School Basketball time, all he saw that I was next to incompetent at transmissions.  Maybe he saw something in my that I didn't, who knows, but I remember that to this day.

So, after 5 years of working on automatic transmissions, first Higa's, then AAMCO in Escondido, then AAMCO in San Diego, one day I said the hell with this, I'm done, done working myself half to death, and done putting up with the likes of Ron Smith - boss man who had it in for me.  By this time, I had gotten good at transmissions - thanks mostly to Al at Higa's - taught me a lot of tricks, and of course, basics.  So, after selling everything I owned - transmission tools, furniture, car, motorcycle, I went to Guitar Center on C Street in San Diego, bought a Les Paul Custom, then down to a tiny music store in Pacific Beach, bought a Fender Super Reverb amp.  I decided to head back to Hawaii.  I knew the area, I knew the military clubs, figured I could get a better start there than in San Diego.  There was also that the guys I'd been hanging around with for the past 4 or 5 years did nothing but try to establish their superiority over me, and that got really old, so, figured I would get out of San Diego.

I arrive in Hawaii, tried to start a band with an uncle who played guitar some.  This is the uncle who used to take me to Palolo Housing (The Projects) and play at parties that his family would have.  I wasn't good by any means, but it was still a good time.  That didn't work out so well, his heart wasn't in playing music, so we parted ways, not good ways, either, but well, such is life.

I started to make my way around to some of the military clubs to talk to managers.  At the same time I found some guys who I thought I might be able to play with.  At some point, a guy, Eddie Parales, saw me at the Fort Shafter Enlisted Men's club.  He had been playing in a Country band in a little country bar called Ducky's Silver Spur - it was way out in Ewa Beach.  He told me they were looking for a guitar player, and if I would be interested in auditioning.  I said I would, even thought I didn't know the first thing about Country Music, or much about lead guitar.  Well, wouldn't you know it, I got the job.  Looking back, it was probably because I was no threat to anybody.  Of course, I didn't think that way that early in my life, but I'm pretty sure that's why I got the job.  Eddie was always good to me, encouraging, telling me I was doing fine, even when I wasn't.  The other guys, kinda not - they had no problem telling me I was weak, gave me a hard time about pretty much everything.  I guess me being who I am, these guys' harping didn't really affect me, I just did the best I could, learned what I could.  This is where a couple of the other old timer musicians (not the ones in the band) took a liking to me, taught me stuff, encouraged me.  There was the one guy, Nick Masters, 60 something year old guy, used to play with Bill Haley and the Comets (after their heyday), who would come in, play my guitar, do his flashy stuff, while sneering and snickering at me.  Same it didn't really affect me, I noticed it, but I guess I just didn't think much of it.  This was the first I noticed the insane jealousy of so many musicians, including 2 of the 3 guys in the band I was in.  These guys, as well as the girl singer, whose band it was, would say less than pleasant things about the other musicians in the circuit.  I vividly remember the horrible things they said about one of the musicians - Earl Hughes.  The guy was very good, good lead guitar player, good fiddle player, good pedal steel player, and good singer - in fact, exceptional at all of it.  He had a good look, and his stage presence was also exceptional.  There was also that the guy I replaced, hated me with a vengeance.  I ran across his Facebook page a few years ago, tried to friend him, but I guess his hatred for me was still with him, so, that was the end of that.  I played in that band for about five months, witnessing the backstabbing, the badmouthing, the resentment.  Being new at music, I had no idea just how intense this kind of thing was, I was so naive, and didn't care to take part in any of it.

So, five months of this, and while some of it was not the greatest time, some of it was great, especially the couple of old timers who were teaching me stuff.  What I learned from those guys was priceless, and I'm thankful for them to have made the effort to share their experience and knowledge with this young kid who could barely play.

The next chapter of my playing music was with J.T. Cardens, another somewhat old timer who knew what true Country Music was.  I guess I'll talk about that in my next post :D .

We with all my videos and music, all production, all instruments, and all vocals by me : D.

Okie From Muskogee 

45 Years In The Music Business Has Taught Me A Few Things

Some of you may know, you who know me, that I've been in the music business for something like 45 years.  I've been to Nashville 5, 6, times or so.  I've seen what goes on behind the scenes, I've seen documentaries, I've seen articles.  Here is the beginning of my thoughts:

One of the things I've learned by having made it to this late age is, there is so much corruption in the world.  There are people who don't think like decent human beings, they feel the need to control the world, intentionally hurt people, even murder people.  So, let's huddle around the music business, being that that's where I've been all these decades.

From the early 80s on back, it was difficult to break into what was known as the "Big Time", in other words to get signed by a major Country record label.  The first thing to keep in mind is, record executives, "Talent Scouts", today known as "A & R" people have a very bad track record when it comes to signing talent.  They'll all tell you that "Most of the artists and bands we sign never even recoup the promotional costs".  It doesn't seem that difficult to me, to recognize real talent, but for some reason, the people in positions of power - even back then, had a very hard time finding the cream of the crop.  They got lucky with some - Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, George Jones, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, and a few others.  But when you think about how many thousands of artists and bands they signed, that never went anywhere, the percentage of talent that was successful was minute.  Well, sometime during the 80s, right around the time that the Urban Cowboy movie came out, things took a turn for the worse.  The record people moved in the direction of Pop music, taking away the true Country roots and traditions.  They signed some of the most horrible acts, and the ones who started out Country, they changed them - turned them towards Pop, which destroyed the careers of many true Country artists, musicians, and bands.  By the early 90s, there were very few true Country artists being signed by the major Country record labels.  By the mid 90s, pretty much all the Country dance halls were gone.  We can thank the record labels, Mainstream Radio, and the Line Dancers for that.  I'll get into all of these in more detail in my future posts.  Record labels started right about that time, to sign some of the most horrid acts, while intentionally locking out true talent - and that system continues to this day - and, they get much better at it with each day that goes by.  Mainstream Radio, of course, being part and parcel to the corruption, would only play what came from the major record labels.  A side:  My dad was a radio disc jockey during the 50s and 60s, he informed me that the front desk of all radio stations were instructed to toss any and all "Unsolicited Music" straight into the trash.  Also by the mid 90s, all the good studio musicians that had been in Nashville were tossed out, having been replaced by cheap imitations.  Ray Flacke was one of the greatest Country guitar players in the history of Country Music, the guy could not get hired for the life of him.  And his story is no isolated case.

The 2000s arrive and now the studios are starting to use electronic devices on the recordings.  Drum machines, MIDI, sampling, Pitch Correcting Software (not to be confused with "Autotune", which is an effect, not any kind of thing that would correct pitch), electronic harmonizers, and soon after - Computer Generated "Content".  Take a quick fast forward to 2025, and the majority of the music you hear coming out of Nashville is mostly computer generated - no real musicians, no real instruments.  The ones doing the singing today, none are actual artists, they are actors, they have been taught how to put on fake southern accents - most of them grossly overdone.  Most of then don't even know how to actually sing.  And the songs - some written by "Staff Writers", who get paid slightly more than minimum wage, to write songs that fit inside the horrible box that Nashville has been creating for decades.  Many of the other songs are written by computers.  This is why the lyrics are mindless and wandering - pandering to the teenage groups who are easily fooled by the billion dollar a year hype that Nashville puts out.  "He's the real deal", the guy they refer to with that one is anything but real.  The back stories are all concocted by the publicist departments - same - guys who sit around all day making up total and complete lies that make these "Stars" sound like something.  I happened to know a guy who worked for a major Country act that has now been around for more than 20 years.  I asked him early on, "What's it like working for ___?".  His answer:  "He's a hell of a nice guy, but it would be great if he could hit a note once in a while".

Before I sign off for tonight, my one last thought, nobody can tell me there isn't real talent out here, it's just that Nashville will not let it be heard.

So, I guess I'll stop here for now.  There is so much more, which I'll get into in my future posts.  So please check back.

The video is me, playing all the instruments, singing all the parts, and doing all the production.  The song is one of my originals, lamenting to my favorite Country singer, Merle Haggard, asking what the hell happened to our music.

Till next time.

Mr. Haggard

It's 2025, I'm Back, For Now, Anyway

Well, it's been something like five years since I last posted anything here.  I was just watching a really good TV show (which is very rare these days), the girl was blogging about her work.  Reminded me I have this blog.  I guess I was using it for somewhat of a journal or diary, and for venting.  I'm pretty sure there are some posts that showed my depression and anxiety, my extreme lows, my disgust, among other less than pleasant things.

Anyway, I guess I've always been one of those people who cannot stomach things like corruption, fraud, lying, exploiting, manipulating, bullying, and such.  These things are rampant in today's world, and I guess I'm not handling it so well.  My depression comes and goes, my anxiety is pretty much always present, and my disgust meter is constantly pegging.

As of today, I've been in the music business for 45 years.  There have been a few times where I thought I was done, gotten out from a few months to a couple of years, then falling right back into it.  I guess it's who I am, who I'll always be. 

I'm now in Reno, Nevada, been here about eight months.  I spent a couple years in Prineville, Oregon, before this.  I played music fairly regularly while I was in Prineville, and same here, working fairly regularly.

I'm seeing changes in the business.  There was of course, the whole Covid fiasco, which put a lot of people out of business.  I delivered food, it was the best I could do during that time, and amazingly, I survived it all.  Anyway, changes in the music business.

Way back in the 80s, when I was first starting out, all the musicians were better than I was.  They could do things I thought I would never be able to do.  Fast forward to 2025, and I guess I progressed to some degree :D .  I may have mentioned before, but just in case not, I play nine instruments.  And I'm not talking about dabbling, I can actually play nine instruments.  Over the past year or so, I've put together around a hundred music videos.  In these videos, I play all the instruments (all real instruments), then put the video parts together.  I digress.  What I've seen over the past few years is, the calibre of musicians seems to have deteriorated.  I'm not saying there were unlimited numbers of great players and singers back in the day, but the calibre was noticeably better.  I was lucky in the way that there were some old timers in Hawaii at that time, who taught me things - valuable things.  Ettiquette, guitar stuff (most of which I use to this day), Sears And Roebuck turnarounds, and, what Country Music actually is.  There were, of course the ones who weren't so helpful or supportive - taking every opportunity to put me down.  That's not a complaint, it's just life.  Believe it or not, they actually helped me in ways that they probably never thought about.

These days, there are guys who will do ANYTHING to get onto a stage.   A lot of them are downloading karaoke tracks off the internet, put them onto a tablet, go onto a stage and sing karaoke.  They don't really play, most of them can't hit a note, and they're intensely reading lyrics off the tablet.  Then there's the computer generated "Content" - where instead of playing real instruments, they get the computer to generate sounds that resemble real instruments.  I see all of this as fraud, and I've made quite a few people very angry by saying that, but well, it's the way I see it.  It's been a rough road trying to work, with all the corruption, the fraud, the envy and jealousy, and the silly prejudices.  Many who are in positions of booking live music are, or were, musicians.  They see a guy who can do things that they couldn't, who gets too much attention, and he's toast (as they say).  I have had that happen more times than I can count.  Then, there's Facebook, which I see as a great tool to point out corruption and other bad behavior.  Many of these people in positions will see something they don't like, and as a matter of punishment, will lock me out of their place of business - restaurant, bar, etc.

I did land a good place to play up in Virginia City, just outside of Reno.  It's called "Bonanza Mexican Cantina".  The owners are the exception to the rule.  They are honest, decent people who want the best for their customers, and who want their business to do well.  I have yet to see their ego be any part of what they do.  Before that, I worked at a place, Delta Saloon, whole different story.  So, I play at the Bonanza Saturdays and Sundays, and more during the warmer months.  I also play a few places around Reno when weather permits - they are patio jobs.  The Wild River Grille - the manager - same as Bonanza, does his best to do for his customers, as well as for the business.  I'm in their rotation, I play there 3 days a month.  Then there's Legends Bar And Grille - another one where the owner and manager are straight up - what's best for the customers, and for the business. I do well is places where that's the case.  There are a whole lot less of those than the other, but I guess that's just life in the music business in 2025.

So, that's where I am at the moment.  Things got a little tight over this winter, with snow cancelling me a few times, and the endless barrage of corporations stealing money - another of the perils of life in 2025 - well, I guess all along :D .

I'll be here posting for a while.  I have a lot to say about the music business in general - a lot about the horrible corruption in Nashville and the major Country Music record labels.  Maybe some about everyday life.  And who knows what else.

So, hopefully you'll check back to see what other crazy stuff you might find here :D .  I guess I'll try adding a video to each of my posts.  Keep in mind, in my videos, all production, and all instruments and vocals by me.

YouTube Video here:  Dixieland Delight

Till next time.