Archives for October 2014

The First Jukebox You Ever Saw

October 29, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

This past week I was in the Washington D.C. area (Silver Springs, MD). I walked into this old record shop and what did I see but this old jukebox. If you are from the 50s’ you gotta remember these things…think how many quarters we all dropped into the machine to hear our favorite songs. Back then you could get six plays for a quarter. Jukeboxes and pin ball machines. Oh my!

Just some thoughts:

CAN YOU REMEMBER THE FIRST JUKEBOX YOU EVER SAW?

Not long ago I walked into; well, let’s just call it an establishment. A number of things caught my attention, but one in particular was a jukebox. It was one of those big ole jukeboxes, with lights and the arm that came out and picked up the record; big speakers on each side, and it had a great sound. I walked over to it and it read three plays for a quarter. Not bad for current day, but I can remember in the late 1950’s when it was 5 plays for a quarter. At Bert and Fin’s truck stop, just a bit south of Farmersburg, (Indiana) their jukebox offered 6 plays for a quarter.

One of the first jukeboxes I can remember was in Farmersburg, Indiana. It was in a restaurant, soda type joint just down the street from Calvin’s barbershop. Another was at Arnold’s Newsstand in Sullivan. But the jukebox that most comes to mind was the one in the Blue Goose in Shelburn, Indiana. (Smoked my first cigar out back of the Blue Goose at halftime of a ballgame I was attending. I was in the 8th grade, and I got sicker than a dog; bad scene for young Larry that night.) But I sure dropped a few quarters in those jukeboxes on many a Saturday night.

It is not certain where the term jukebox came from. Some suggest it came out of the American south where bars played jazz and blues. For some reason, some of the places were called “jook joints.” Commercially the term was not adopted until the late 1930’s. Early jukeboxes could be found in speakeasies during Prohibition. The 40’s and the 50’s were the golden age of the jukebox. It is said that the decline of jukeboxes began with the fast food business. Can you imagine Ronald McDonald and jukeboxes today?

In the corner of my mind there stands a jukebox
It’s playin’ all my favorite mem-o-ries
One by one they take me back
To the days when you were mine
And I can’t stop this jukebox in my mind

Maybe that is why a jukebox stills has a lure for so many from my time and generation….

May 1, 2013
Keep on
Larry Adamson

You Got To Know When To Hold ‘Em

October 26, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

You got to know when to hold them. And you best know when to fold them also.

I immediately recognized him this morning as he walked into my coffee place. As he passed by my table I said, “You gotta know when to hold them and know when to fold them.” He did a quick glance at me, “Let me get my coffee and I will be right back.”

As he approached my table I then said, “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, with four hungry kids and a crop in the field, I’ve had some good times, been through some bad times, but this time your hurtin” won’t heal.” This was my meeting with the two time Grammy award winner, songwriter, Don Schlitz. We talked for some time and he could not have been more humble and kinder with my questioning of his song writing. In fact he took out a song he had just written a few days prior and asked me to look at the words and wanted to know what I thought. “What, me look at your writing?” “Hey anyone that can quote my lyrics can certainly look at something that hasn’t been recorded.”

Kenny Rogers, when he spoke at Schlitz’s induction into the Song Writers Hall of Fame said, “He is brilliant, unpredictable, compassionate and wise.” Schlitz told me that Rogers asks for a first look at anything he now writes.

Some years ago I had the good fortunate to meet and spend some time backstage with Rogers before one of his performances. At that time he was riding the wave of success with the classic song Schlitz had written, “The Gambler.”

Rogers was equally as kind as Schlitz was on this morning. In fact, Rogers invited me to play his private golf course. Later, on one of my trips back from Augusta to New Jersey I stopped just outside of Albany, Georgia where Rogers was living at the time and along with the tournament director of the Georgia State Golf Association we played his course. Rogers personally designed every hole and it was private. Very private. We, along with Roger’s dog, were the only two playing that day.

Don Schlitz often plays the songwriter’s venue here on the west side of Nashville, The Bluebird. He does a nine p.m. show that he labels, “Dollar Night with Don.” If you ever have the opportunity to go, I can assure you will get more than your money’s worth.

Oh, by the way one of the greatest song lines ever written was penned by Schlitz and sung by Rogers. The line:

“The best you can hope for is to die in your sleep.”

Pretty hard to argue with that.

January 24, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Korea, A Forgotten War

October 23, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

This past summer I was back in my home town in Indiana playing in a city golf tournament. What I was doing in a golf tournament is a good question. While there, as I generally do,I stayed with my nephew David and his wife Kathy. One night late I was sitting at his desk using his computer when I looked to my left and saw a picture he had sitting on his desk. It caught my eye. I stopped what I was doing and picked up the picture. First I smiled and then I felt some other emotions come over me. The picture was of my brother, my nephew and two niece’s dad. In the picture with him was his best friend. They both were in their military Air Force uniforms having just completed basic training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. The year was 1950 and very shortly my brother would be shipped out to Korea. He would be there for one year. It was the time of the Korean War 1950-53. Author David Halberstram wrote a very good book about this war, The Coldest War and in Clay Blair’s book he called it The Forgotten War.

I returned the sixty-four year old picture to its rightful place and thought at least there is one soldier that has not been forgotten and his memory lives on in the mind of his son, two daughters and his brother.

Below is something I wrote back in August of 2012.

Just some thoughts:

KOREA, A FORGOTTEN WAR

“Comb your hair, paint and powder,
You’ll look proud but I’ll look prouder,
Tonight we’re settin the woods on fire.”

My brother Daren on the right with his friend Dean 1950

Isn’t it strange what we remember? Songs, people and circumstances often take us back. Hank Williams, Sr. had this song as a hit in 1950. The first time I heard that song was with my mom, dad and another couple as we had gone out to eat. I was eight years old at the time; and going out to eat was something my family seldom did. But this was a Saturday night. We were eating at Bert and Finn’s Truck Stop just a bit north of Shelburn, Indiana. You can see my family had fancy dining habits if and when we ate out. Yes, Bert and Finn’s Truck Stop.

I remember that song being played constantly on the juke box. My mom made some comment about it and the man from the other couple commented on how a number of folks must like the song because it was number one last week on the TV show, The Hit Parade. Now you surely don’t remember that show; Snooky Landson, Geilse McKenzie and Dorothy Collins.

But what I most remember about that evening was not the evening of dining out, but what had taken place earlier that day. On that day my older brother, eighteen year old Daren had left the train station in Terre Haute going to Lackland Air Force Base in Texas to begin his basic training. The other couple also had put their son, Dean, on that same train headed to the same location. It was the time of the Korean War; I call that war the forgotten war. Sadly, too many do not remember that time or the cost of lives.

Now, as an adult I realize going out to eat was not the main reason for us being together that evening. I think two families wanted company, wanting to be together with another in like situations. When I think back to that day, I think it was the first time in my life I cried, I mean really cried over something that hurt, other than bumps, bruises and scratches.

I look at my grandchildren today and wonder what it is they will cry over. That day two couples were wanting support and to share in their sadness

“Sadness not shared can multiplied, sadness shared can be halved.”

“Pity the man who falls and has no one to pick him up.”

August 28, 2012
Keep on
Larry Adamson

Kandi Kanes

October 20, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

If you grew up in the late 50s’ most towns had their local rock-n’-roll music people. Our area was no different. There was The Five Chords, The Fascinators and a group of girls I reference in one of my ramblings back in July of 2013. The group was made up of eight high school girls calling themselves The Kandi Kanes. This coming February while spending time in Florida my wife and I have booked a cruise. It is an eight day cruise called “Rockin’ the Caribbean.” It will featured a number of old rock-n’-roll groups and performers from the late 50s’. It should be a good time. Hey a really good time. While the Kandi Kanes will not be appearing on the cruise I just wanted them to know that even with the passing of time they have not been forgotten.

Just some thoughts:

THE KANDI KANES

There were a lot of local rock-n’-roll music groups when I was growing up in the late 1950s’ in Indiana.

That was true of so many areas around the country in the mid to late 1950s’. Ask anyone from that time, and I bet they can name you a local group or band they thought was special. In my home area I remember a group called the Fascinators, and another group was The Five Chords or Boone Dunbar.

Local remotes on the radio with local talent was very common. I can remember driving the strip on a Saturday night at 9 p.m. and hearing a disc jockey Bob Rousch or Johnny Palmer bring on the Noel Davenport Trio, “live” from the Wayne Newton American Legion Post.

I was reminded of another group today as I was driving my old Corvette with the top down and listening to an oldies cassette. The group was called the Kandi Kanes. No, they were never famous and never appeared on American Bandstand or toured with Dick Clark’s caravan. They appeared at high school reviews, social clubs, service clubs and your grandmother’s birthday party. Maybe even a Tupperware party. But yes, I do remember them. My cousin, Mona, was a member of the group, as was my childhood friend, Janet. She, her brother and I have stayed in touch over the years. Janet and I rode the Ferris wheel a time or two at the county fair. Well maybe more than a “time or two.”

1959 The Kandi Kanes: Barbara, Judy, Janet, Sheila, Sally, Pat, Sandy, Mona

The Kandi Kanes often sang a lot of girl group songs that were popular at the time, The Chordettes, The McGuire Sisters and even some old stuff from the 40s’ group, the Andrew Sisters. I remember The Kandi Kanes were once the “entertainment” at a sports banquet at my old high school. They “dedicated” a song to me, which my buddies never, never let me live down. They were not only pretty good singers as a group, but also pretty to look at. Judy was a pretty Honey Creek Bees cheerleader and I have already referenced Janet and the Ferris wheel rides. Today a song from the McGuire Sisters came on as I drove along. Thoughts and lyrics came back to me.

“May You Always”

May you always walk in sunshine, slumber warm
when night winds blow
May you always live with laughter,
for a smile becomes you so
May good fortune find your doorway,
may the bluebirds sing your song
May no trouble travel your way,
may no worry stay too long
May your heartaches be forgotten,
may no tear be spilled
May old acquaintance be remembered,
and your cup of kindness filled
And may you always be a dreamer,
may your wildest dream come true

I’ve been wondering about contacting the group to see if they would be interested in doing one of those reunion tours that old rock groups are doing today. As we said they never appeared on American Bandstand or toured with Dick Clark but they had their circle of influence.

But I have hopes for the Kandi Kanes and so many others that I knew and were a part of my life during this time. For all of them I hope they have walked in sunshine, lived with laughter, found good fortune, not worried too long, their heartaches have been forgotten, and that old acquaintance have been remembered and that their dreams have come true. Really a wish for all of us.

Today when I hear a song from that time those old groups still live on in my mind and that includes the Kandi Kanes.

July 27, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Chuck Berry

October 18, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Chuck Berry, 1957

Chuck Berry’s birthday is October 18, 1926. The man is 88 years old. Can’t be. I wrote the following back in 2011 just a few days after seeing him in St.Louis. And yes, I did see him in prison but as I said, that’s another story.

Just some thoughts:

“Just take those old records off the shelf,
I’ll sit and listen to them by myself,
Today’s music ain’t got the same soul,
I love that old time rock-‘n’-roll.”

Amen, preach it, brother, preach it!

Jerry Lee Lewis once called him the “Hank Williams of rock-n- roll.” He was referring to Chuck Berry, and his song writing and performing talents. Over the years, I have seen Chuck Berry numerous times; even once saw him in prison. Now, that’s a story for another time.

A couple weeks ago, I was on the golf course when my cell phone rang. Normally, when I’m on the golf course, I will let it ring, but I looked at it and thought, “Better take this call.” I thought I knew who it was as the area code was for St. Louis. I answered, “Larry, I got two tickets for this coming Wednesday night. You always told me if I ever got tickets to immediately call you.” My instructions to my friend, who was living in St. Louis, had always been, “If you can ever get tickets to the small club where Chuck Berry still plays a couple times a month, get them, call me and I’ll be there.”

The next Wednesday saw my friend and I and a bunch of other folks packed like sardines in the basement of a small club in the heart of St. Louis. We were there to see 86-year-old Chuck Berry do his thing. And do his thing he did! Now he is not the Chuck Berry of our 1950s’ days, his son and daughter help him with various things while he is on stage. At times, the lyrics seem to fade a bit, but he is still Chuck Berry, and, even still, does an abbreviated duck walk. But he is still Chuck Berry.

I have told my oldest grandson, “When I’m old and you all have to put me in the Home and I’m just sittin’ on the porch, get a convertible, load me up, of course, the top must be down, and take me for a spin. Put on some of that good ole rock-n-roll music, like Elvis, Little Richard, Fats, Ricky, Dion, Jerry Lee and of course, Chuck. If you don’t get a rise out of me, take me back to the Home and tell them, He’s done.”

“Call me a relic, call me what you will,
say I’m old fashion, say I’m over the hill
today’s music ain’t got the same soul
I love that old time rock-‘n’- roll.”

“I reminisce about the days of old.”

Yes, I do reminisce about the days of old. More than often.

June 25, 2011
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Some Memories Never Die

October 15, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Andrew Loomis by oldcarguy41 on Flickr

Just some thoughts:

I was and still am a great Marty Robbins fan.

Sadly, he passed away from a heart attack in 1982. He had many great hits. One of my favorites of all time is a song entitled “Some Memories Never Die.”

The year was 1944 and the world was locked in war. She, teenager Dolores, was riding on a city bus in her home town of Nashville. He, Bob, 19, was a soldier in training who happened to step on that same bus. The meeting was simple; he was in uniform and was in training to be shipped overseas. He wrote his address on the inside cover of a matchbook and gave it to her. Some of you may be too young to know what matchbooks are.

He asked her one question: “Will you write me?” Write they did, and a romance developed. They spent his few breaks dating, doing simple things people did back then- a movie or a coke date, maybe a walk in the park. Now, that is a novel idea. Personally, I can remember when ordering two cokes and an order of fries could get you some good mileage in a date or a relationship. They shared talks, walks, holding hands and a simple kiss. Then time came and he was shipped overseas to Europe during the time of WWII.

Found on retronaut.co

They continued to write. Then, one day, a letter came from Bob’s mother in California, telling her that Bob had been killed in action in France. Dolores, went on and married twice thereafter. Today, 2012, nearly seventy years later, a photograph of Bob still hangs on the wall in Dolores’ condo here in Nashville. She has continued to stay in touch with Bob’s mother, brother and family.

The last time she talked with his parents she told them, “I still love him; I have never felt love like that before or since. He was the love of my life.” It’s interesting she went on with her life but in her words, “I never felt love like that before or since.”

http://imgur.com/AT1vu

In the mid 1950s’, Sonny James sang to us about “Young Love.”

“They say for every boy and girl there’s just one love in this whole world.”

Sometimes that love, young love, can be an everlasting love; some memories never die.

May 9, 2012
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Meadowlark

October 13, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

MEADOWLARK

“I try not to live that way anymore.”

For the past ten years I have had the good fortune to work as a volunteer at Vince Gill’s celebrity golf tournament that he sponsors here in Nashville. This year was the twenty-first year for it. Over the years I have been involved with transportation, getting folks to various locations, airport, golf course, hotel, etc. Once I was even called upon to take a celebrity’s dental plate that he broke while playing to the dentist.

In years past I have transported the likes of Charlie “Kiss An Angel Good Morning” Pride, The Gatlin boys, Mac Davis, and this year the legendary Harlem Globetrotter, Meadowlark Lemon.What a treat, he was. I picked him up at the airport and was taking him to the hotel when he saw two books on the floor of our vehicle. Both books were about the story of Meadowlark’s life. “Have you read those books?” he asked. “Yes, I have,” I answered. “Well, I would like you to know that what is written in those books is true, but I would also like you to know that while it was true then, I don’t live that way anymore.” I smiled and said, “Okay.”

I thought that was an interesting statement; and I appreciated the fact that in those books there were things said and descriptions given about the way he once lived, but it was important for him to tell me he doesn’t live that way anymore. You know, if the truth be told, I wonder what might be written about us and our past; and in turn, we would want people to know that, “We don’t live and act that way anymore.”

Meadowlark was a true gentleman. A man who has been in ninety plus countries, played in more basketball games than any man alive and has more stories than Mark Twain could have ever told and yet he still wanted me to know something more about him.

One who wanted this stranger to know who he was today:

“I don’t live like that anymore.”

June 18, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Jerry Lee Lewis

October 11, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Recently I saw Jerry Lee Lewis for the umpteenth time in my life. He played the Ryman here in Nashville. This past month (September 29, 1935) he turned seventy-nine years old. I first saw him in 1958.

In 1975 I saw him four nights in a row, two shows a night at a small club in Indianapolis. The “good attendance” got my cousin and I an invite from Jerry to come back to his dressing room and meet him. Which we did.

Jerry is the only one still living out of the stable of performers that got their start at Sun records in Memphis. Elvis, Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins all are gone and Jerry remains. Vegas once would have given pretty good odds that this would not happen. I have been fortunate to have seen what I think are some of the most famous performers in my lifetime. Sinatra, saw him numerous times, saw Elvis, Orbison, Fats Domino, Rick Nelson, Johnny Cash (also numerous times) Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly. But there is only one Jerry Lee.

During this recent show in Nashville I stood in the back of the performance hall and talked for some time with Jerry’s niece. She and her mother, Linda Gail Lewis had opened Jerry’s show that night. She remarked that while Jerry’s health is not good he was having a good week and had looked forward to performing in Nashville. The song he did prior to his closing number last night was a song he recorded some time back entitled “I Wish I Was Eighteen Again.

I’ll never again turn the young ladies heads
Or go running off into the wind
I’m three quarters home now from the start to the end
I wish I was eighteen again

Time turns the pages and life it goes so fast
The years turn the black hair to gray
I talked to young folks but they don’t understand
The things this old man’s has to say

Oh, I wish I was eighteen again
Going back where I’ve never been
But old folks, old oaks
Standing tall, just pretend
I’ll never be eighteen again

I would say to Jerry, you are not the only one with that wish.

October 5, 2014
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

How Many Countries?

October 8, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

“Some folks in life have no interest in going no further than their mailbox.”

“Far away places with strange sounding names, far away over the seas”

That first line was said to me not long ago by a man who had been in ninety-two countries. Not states, countries. I picked him up at the airport to take him to his hotel. I would be spending some time with him over the weekend as he was in Nashville for the Vince Gill’s Celebrity Golf Tournament. He is the legendary Harlem Globetrotter, Meadowlark Lemon. Lemon played for many years with the famed group and traveled the world. He shared stories with me about playing in areas where there were snakes on the court, on aircraft carriers in distant seas and in places neither of us have ever heard of before.

Not long after that time spent with Lemon, our eight year old grandson, Luke, in one of my afternoon pick up from the bus encounters, asked me, “Pop Pop, how many countries have you been in?” He also told me that one day he was going to live in Japan. That is a long way from his mailbox. He then said, “Tell me about some of the places you and Mimi have been.” I told him how lucky we were to have had the opportunity to travel to distant lands, I said…

I can remember standing in the Coliseum in Rome and thinking this is a lot bigger than Butler Field House. I stood and listened as the guide told stories of the people who lost their lives on the floor of that arena.

I can remember sitting in the “town square,” no that is not what they called it, in Florence, Italy, and thinking what am I doing here?

I have been in the Alps of Switzerland and Germany at Hitler’s hideaway and looked at the initials American soldiers had carved in his desk.

I have watched the changing of the guard in London and heard Big Ben ring.

I walked the beaches at Normandy and sat in the bunkers in the mountains of Germany where the Battle of the Bulge took place.

I remember standing on the deck of the ship looking down at the narrow passages as we sailed through the Panama Canal and later in the dense jungle rainforest of Coast Rica.

I remember watching huge ice caps break while sailing in the waters in Alaska.

I remember standing on a rock in Greece where they claim the biblical character Peter or Paul might have stood and walking the Biblical ruins of cities in Greece.

I remember a dinner cruise on the Nile River in Egypt one night and thinking back to my first two Sunday school teachers, Goldie (MacDonald) and Grace (Hoggart), and wondering if baby Moses was still among the bull rushes.

I remember seeing the ancient pyramids. I remember walking in the market places in Cairo, Egypt, and thinking how these are the most miserable people I have ever seen. They don’t even like each other.

I remember my first time, and then later times, hitting a golf ball from the first tee at St Andrews, Scotland, and thinking, “This is where this game first began, and I’m here.”

I remember a fall evening after a great day of golf in Ireland; and then my wife and I, along with good friends, eating a wonderful dinner at a BB overlooking the ocean. It truly was something out of a book or movie.

I remember standing in the showers and seeing the ovens in Dachau, Germany and thinking how could one man be so evil to want to do these things to other human beings?

I told Luke that his Mimi went to Russia to work and live in a street mission for kids.

“Luke there is more to tell you, but we’ll have to talk more the next time, okay?”

So, how many countries has Luke’s grandfather been in? It certainly is not ninety-two like Meadowlark, but it’s far more than I ever imagined from my small beginnings in Pimento, Indiana.

I feel very fortunate to have been a lot further than my mailbox. I hope someday my grandchildren can travel to foreign lands too.

Yes, Luke, I hope you do get to go to Japan.

February 7, 2014
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Butter and Jelly

October 6, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Recently I was back in Indiana visiting some old friends and playing golf in a town where we once lived and coached.

That evening they were having a street fair so we all took some chairs and found ourselves near the stage for a show that would feature an old rock-n’-roll act. The act was Jan and Dean from the late 1950s’.

As I sat and watched the show I was reminded of a story that involved Jan and Dean. At the time of this performance Jan was no longer a part of the act as he had died in March of 2004. Jan Berry was in a serious car accident in 1966. He did recover enough to continue performing but physically and probably mentally was never the same.

Kindness comes dressed in a lot of different costumes. Two years prior to Jan’s accident one of their hit songs had been a thing called “Dead Man’s Curve.” In 1966 Berry in real life lived the lyrics of that song. Driving too fast in a sports car Berry crashed and he was left with some speech, mobility and memory problems. But in the years that followed the duo continued to work the road and perform. Even under the best of circumstances such a life for a performer can be a strain.

When performing and going out on the road often the band would be waiting for Jan to meet up with them to make their travel schedule. On one such occasion Dean went looking for Jan as the band was about to board a plane. Dean found Jan in a little coffee shop sitting at a table all alone. On difficult days when bouts of confusion were so much a part of Jan’s life things of a daily routine became difficult. On this day Dean, seeing Jan sitting alone trying to manage breakfast, goes to the table and pulls up a chair across from Jan. They talk quietly. Then Dean can be seen reaching across the table for Jan’s tray. He picks up a small jelly container along with a pad of butter and proceeds to butter and jelly Jan’s toast. He then cuts the toast into small pieces so it will be easier for Jan to manage. He then slides the tray back to Jan.

On this warm summer evening in central Indiana as we sat and watched Dean and the band perform I thought:

“You know sometimes kindness can be something as simple as someone putting butter and jelly on your toast.”

August 15, 2010
Keep on,
Larry Adamson