It was 40 years ago today...

...the Monterey Pop Festival got underway.  Can you believe the "Summer of Love" was 40 fucking years ago already?  Don't mean to make youse guys feel old or anything, but Sgt. Pepper is now 40 years old.  So is Are You Experienced? and "I Can See For Miles" and "Happy Together" and "Incense And Peppermints" and The Doors' first album—these and many many more!

Meanwhile, back at Monterey, the first of the big-time festival concerts was a smashing success, organized by the late John Phillips of the Mamas & The Papas, and featuring his group, as well as Janis Joplin, the Jefferson Hairpie—er uh—Airplane, Booker T. & The M.G.'s, not to mention the legendary breakout performances by the late Otis Redding (just six months before his untimely death), The Who and the Jimi Hendrix Experience (featuring "Bob Dylan's grandmother", aka bassist Noel Redding).  This turned out to be probably the most well-organized and well-run of all the big '60s mega-fests.

I love the stories I've read about the dispute between Pete Townshend of The Who and Jimi Hendrix about who would play first on the bill.  Neither act wanted to follow the other one, given their (literally) explosive nature on-stage, so it came down to a coin flip (which Jimi lost), but it didn't fucking matter—both bands emerged as stars after this gig, even though de 'orrible 'Oo blew the place up first, then Jimi set his guitar on fire at the end of "Wild Thing".  Roger Daltrey of The Who also related a great story about an impromptu jam session that took place under the stage that included himself and Pete, as well as Hendrix, Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones (one of the emcees of the show), Mama Cass and several others that Roger totally regrets wasn't caught on tape.  He claims it was better than the concert itself, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's right.

While I'm on the subject of concert anniversaries, it was 28 years ago tomorrow that I attended my first legitimate Rock concert—Summer Rock '79 at Arrowhead Stadium (are you with me, Brother Raley?)—featuring Ted Nugent, Heart, The Cars, Sammy Hagar and Missouri.  I was only 15 at the time, so my old man had to drop me and my friend Tom off and pick us up after the show.  I still have pretty healthy memories about the show:

—I distinctly remember Sammy Hagar coming back for his encore and screaming into the microphone, "Turn this fucking mic back on!"  Uh, Sam, I think it's on...

—The Cars weren't terribly well-received because this was their first K.C. appearance, and they all kinda stood still on stage while they played.  I do recall to this day how Greg Hawkes' synthesizer echoed around the stadium on "You're All I've Got Tonight", but the band didn't come off well at all that day.  The Cars were actually a damn good live band in the right venue—i.e. smaller clubs and theaters—as evidenced by the recent DVD release of various live performances from their career.  I always thought they should've toured with The Police.  Get it?  The Police Cars Tour?  Har-dee-har-har...

—Heart was quite good during their set, although I don't remember much about it.  They were on their Dog & Butterfly tour, or "Dog & Butt", as the receipt read when I later bought the album...

—Ted Nugent was the headliner, and he was quite adequate, but slightly subdued because of an ankle injury he'd sustained earlier that week.  The highlight of the show was the impromptu trash-throwing session during Nugent's set, wherein the majority of the crowd just started throwing anything they could get their hands on all around the stadium.  Tom and I survived the melee unscathed and unharmed...

Travelblog--Part 3

NASHVILLE SKYLINE
Got into the Capital of Country Music around lunchtime on Sunday, and quickly realized that I had chosen a rather inopportune day to tour downtown, as there was a big CMA Fan Fest hoop-de-doo taking place, thus downtown was a clusterfuck of people.  I wound up parking on the other side of downtown away from all the action in a garage across the street from Municipal Auditorium, where Ted Nugent recorded parts of Double Live Gonzo! (and paid homage to all that "Nashville pussy").  This actually worked out rather nicely, because it gave me a chance to roam along the bluffs overlooking the Cumberland River and the Tennessee Titans football stadium (whatever it’s called this week) before wandering down through the masses.  I was very impressed with Nashville’s very underrated skyline and its distinctive architecture, especially the BellSouth tower (the big tall rascal with the matching lightning rods).  And once again, Kansas City gets upstaged by a smaller city with a far more exciting downtown, as there is so much to do and see in downtown Nashville.  Even without their big Country hoedown thing last weekend, I imagine there would still have been a fair amount of people hitting all the attractions, whereas downtown Kansas City on a Sunday afternoon would put people to sleep faster than your average Kenny G CD.

I also enjoyed the adjacent entertainment district along Broadway, which reminded me a little of Beale Street in Memphis, only a tad more subdued.  They don’t emphasize the drinking and partying here quite as much as in Memphis, but there are plenty of bars, restaurants and clubs lining the street, and I partook of a dandy pork sandwich at Rippy’s BBQ that really hit the spot.

THE HALLI was pleasantly surprised by and impressed with the Country Music Hall of Fame, which is right next door to the Nashville Predators’ hockey arena (whatever it’s called this week), and just a couple blocks from Ryman Auditorium.  I’m not a big Country fan by any means, but I do have a few Country artists in my CD collection (Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Jerry Reed, et al), and I certainly respect the history of this genre of music, given that it’s all interconnected with Rock history.  The Country HOF was damn near as cool as the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, and well worth the visit.  They had tons of artifacts on display—everything from stage outfits worn by the different artists, various musical instruments (like Buck Owens’ red, white and blue guitar from "Hee Haw"), and cars of the stars, like Webb Pierce’s badass ride with the cow horns and Elvis’s custom Caddie that I featured a few posts back.  Speaking of "Hee Haw", they had a rather humorous display in tribute to the show, featuring the mock cornfield and mannequins with the costumes worn by Grandpa Jones, Junior Samples, et al.  I also enjoyed their temporary exhibit on Ray Charles and his successful foray into Country music.  Also included in the Hall of Fame complex is a massive three-story music archive that looked pretty ambitious—evidently they’re trying to preserve every last Country recording ever made!

One area where the Country HOF clearly outshines the Rock HOF is the actual shrine itself where the inductees are honored.  Each honoree has their own plaque on the wall in this cathedral-like room, very similar to the ones at the Baseball Hall of Fame, complete with their likeness in bronze and a detailed description of their career achievements (minus their lifetime batting average).  The Rock HOF has this spiral ramp that you ascend with the inductees’ names emblazoned on the wall along with their signatures, but there’s nothing to detail their careers or explain why they’re in the hall.  Also, it’s kinda dumb to see blank spaces for the signatures of the deceased artists—i.e., it’s a little hard to get Buddy Holly’s or Jimi Hendrix’ autograph posthumously.  The Country Hall got it right for sure, and I highly recommend a visit there, especially to my friends who are big Country fans—Mr. Jefferies, attention!  Hell, if I enjoyed it, I know you would.  Yet another A+ in my book…

THE 50,000-WATT BLOWTORCH
Before I hit downtown, I made it a point to drive just south of the city to check out the WSM transmitter tower, and their website wasn’t kidding—it truly is a sight to behold.  This behemoth is 808 feet tall—that’s 178 feet taller than the Gateway Arch, folks!  It is any wonder you can pick that station up everywhere?  I also spent some time listening to this very historical radio station while in town, and it was actually fun to hear "old-school" radio on AM again.







PERFECTLY GOOD GUITAR
I’d also been dying to see this thing in person.  This is the main scoreboard at Nashville’s minor league baseball park, Greer Stadium.  What do you suppose one would use as a pick for this thing, a manhole cover?  I love the strategically-placed linescore on the guitar’s neck, too. There’s been talk of building a new ballpark downtown to replace this aging stadium, but I hope they transplant the scoreboard if they do move.

THE MAN IN BLACK
I’m not sure why, but I’m rather fascinated by famous people’s gravesites, so I paid a visit to the graves of Johnny and June Carter Cash in suburban Hendersonville.  It was kinda surreal to find their graves in such a small cemetery in modern suburbia amidst all the strip malls and convenience stores.  Nothing real fancy here—just very humble and tasteful—and their graves didn’t stand out at all amongst the others, which I found rather refreshing.  R.I.P. Johnny and June...

GOIN' TO CHURCH
Yet another educational stop on my trip was the famous Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville, original home of the Grand Ole Opry.  I knew a little bit about the rich history of this place—turns out it was very little.  Anyone who is/was anyone in Country music has stood on this stage at one time or another, and it's amazing to think that this place was almost torn down.  After the Opry moved in 1974 to its new soulless country club digs out in the suburbs in shopping mall heaven, the Ryman closed down and sat dormant and decaying for 20 years.  Fortunately, the Gaylord Entertainment people (owners of the Opry and most of Tennessee) kicked in the money to refurbish, renovate and resurrect this musical temple, and managed to pretty much perserve its essence, right down to its original wooden pews.

Not only is the Ryman open daily for tours, during which you can stand on the stage (as I did for this pic), it's still a viable concert venue, hosting acts from every genre of music—not just Country—-everything from Seal to Robert Plant.  Even Ted Nugent played there a week ago Friday—I hope he at least showed this place a little respect and refrained from doing his "get out of America if you can't speak English" shtick, but knowing him, he probably didn't.  They say that the acoustics in this building are damn near perfect, and I hope to get back down to Nashville again and see a show there.  I bet a John Hiatt concert there would be awesome.  A++ in my book on this one.  Special thanks to Brother Randy Raley for his recommendation of seeing the Ryman and Johnny Cash's gravesite—these suggestions helped to make this an awesome road trip.  Thank you again, sir—I owe YOU a burger next time I'm in St. Louis!

WELL, BLOW ME DOWN!
My little Magical History Tour concluded with a trip back home along the scenic route through western Kentucky and southern Illinois, passing through Clarksville (now I know what an Austin Peay looks like!), Paducah and Carbondale (home of the Salukis).  Just as I was about to cross back into the Show Me State, I stumbled across an old friend in the riverfront town of Chester, IL.  More education for me on this trip, as I was totally unaware that the world's most famous spinach eater was created by a Chester native named Elzie Segar (click pic below to enlarge and read all about it), thus they put up this dandy statue.  It's real easy to find if you're ever traveling in the area, right at the foot of the Mississippi River bridge on your right as you cross into Illinois on U.S. 51.  Now they need a Wimpy statue!  I yam what I yam...

Pimp My Muppets!

Statler and Waldorf be stylin'. They say these cats are bad muthas--shut yo' mouth!

Travelblog--Part 2

Another installment of my vacation adventures from this past weekend...
[Click on the pics to make them humongous.]

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN...Another highlight of my trip was my visit to the Sun Records museum, where Sam Phillips discovered and recorded the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Charlie Rich, Roy Orbison and of course, one young Elvis Aron Presley (who went to high school just a few blocks away).  The original recording studio has been preserved and is still in use (U2 recorded "Angel Of Harlem" and "When Love Comes To Town" there for Rattle And Hum) along with many of the original instruments and other equipment, including this microphone that more than a few famous people have sung into.  

Our tour guide was quite knowledgeable, and told a great story about the recording of Johnny Cash’s "I Walk The Line".  Seems the Grand Ole Opry had a stupid rule back in the day that to appear on their show, you could not use drums of any kind.  So, The Man In Black circumvented that rule by slipping a dollar bill under the strings on the neck of his guitar.  This made a rhythmic clicky sound as he simply strummed along while singing the song—ergo, Cash used cash to further his career!  Just like with my visit to Motown’s studio in Detroit last September, it was a real treat and privilege to stand in the same room where all those legendary songs were recorded—tons of Rock ‘N’ Roll history went down here, and I strongly encourage a visit. Another A+ in my book…

"EARLY MORNING, APRIL 4..."
I briefly visited the Lorraine Motel/National Civil Rights Museum, site of the Martin Luther King assassination.  There was some big event going on there Saturday, and it was a sea of people, so I stopped back by on Sunday morning before leaving town and took photos.  They basically preserved the side of the hotel where the shooting took place (it actually remained in business until the early ‘80s) and attached the museum onto it, and even placed the two cars (or replicas, I’m not sure which) that were parked there to help recreate the scene during the shooting.  Always neat to get the visual perspective of where famous events took place.

BEALE-IN’ ALRIGHT…
And then there was Beale Street.  Plenty to eat, plenty to drink, plenty of music, plenty of people, plenty of Elvis impersonators, but NO reptiles, by golly!  Reptiles just don’t get no love these days...


For reasons unknown to me, I knew nothing about Beale Street when I first visited Memphis as an adult in 1996, but I brought myself up to speed this time around.  I ate and drank and ate some more and drank some more and did a lot of people watching.  For whatever it’s worth—I don’t think I’ve ever seen a higher concentration of amateur-looking tattoos on people in one place before.  I’m hardly an expert on (let alone a proponent of) body art, but I know cheap tattoos when I see them.  Geez Louise, if you just have to deface your body with graffiti, get a good tattoo instead of something that looks like it was drawn by Mr. Magoo!  But, I digress…

Beale Street is kinda like Kansas City’s Westport and St. Louis’ LaClede’s Landing combined (on steroids).  Public drunkenness is highly encouraged here, as they cordon off the streets to car traffic at night and most of the bars have handy open walk-up windows where you can order up a "Big-Ass Beer" without even having to go inside.  Many of them had live music that filtered out into the street, and it was a rather neat cacophony of sound.  There are also numerous record and gift shops along the way, and eateries that will satisfy most anyone’s appetite except Vegans.  I had lunch at The Pig ("Pork With An Attitude") and their BBQ brisket wasn’t too shabby, although it was a tad overpriced, but that was the general rule everywhere I ate.  I checked out Dyer’s Famous (deep-fried) Burgers (since 1912!) for dinner, and they were delightfully greasy, alright.  And for detox purposes at the end of the night, I got a rack of ribs at another BBQ place whose name escapes me now ("Superior"-something, I think), and they weren’t too shabby either.  Not too hard to figure out why Beale Street is a popular destination for folks.

There may have been no reptiles, but there actually were goats on the premises!  I have no earthly idea why, but in between one of the bars and the open-air courtyard area of another bar sits this fenced-in mini-barnyard where this pair of goats resides.  I thought I’d seen everything until I got a load of their little palatial layout, complete with a one-of-a-kind goat pagoda.  The white goat, who reminded me of Julio’s buddy Chico on "Sanford & Son", was particularly amusing as he started humping on something at the top of the pagoda.  Goats are none too subtle about defecating, either—they take a dump while they walk, just like horses.  I did say that this trip was highly educational, didn't I?

About the only downside to Beale Street is there are way too many panhandlers to deal with.  This one ugly bitch actually tried to grab my chest and I had to shove her away.  I hate to seem like a heartless bastard, but I take a real dim view of these mongrels.  Most of them are drug addicts and losers anyway, and there are legitimate places they can go for help, but they won’t because booze and drugs aren’t allowed in the homeless shelters.  I also feel like I have the right to enjoy myself in public places without being hassled.  To their credit, Memphis has signs all over downtown discouraging people from giving to panhandlers, but they don’t seem to help much.
Tales from the Nashville portion of my trip are forthcoming soon...

A few chalant sequitors

...because those damn nonchalant non-sequitors get all the glory!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME...
Belatedly, anyway. I turned 43 on Monday, against my better judgment.  I share that rather special birthdate with cool famous folks like actor Chad Everett, HOF quarterback Joe Montana, drummer Frank Beard of ZZ Top and actress Adrienne Barbell...

B.F.D.!
Nearly all I heard about on the radio (even on the sports stations) the whole weekend during my trip was the vaunted "Sopranos" finale.  No offense intended to youse guys who are into dat show, but dose of us who don't watch it (let alone don't even have HBO) couldn't give an aardvark's sacrum about it!

WELL-NAMED
I saw a poster at the President Casino in St. Louie for an upcoming performance by a band called the Well Hungarians.  Best band name I've heard since My Dixie Rect...

RADIO, SOMEONE STILL LOVES YOU...
Kudos to the station I picked up in Southern Illinois on Monday called 97.7 The Bear that played Van Halen's "Everybody Wants Some!!" and "Tears Are Falling" by Kiss during a 20-minute span.  I dare our K.C. "classic" Rock stations to deviate even slightly from their regimented playlists to play songs like these now and then in place of "Jump" and "Rock And Roll All Nite"...

FAIR AND BALANCED?
Speaking of radio, one thing I always make it a point to do on road trips is scan through the dial (esp. during middays) to see what's going on in the way of talk radio, and all these people who complain about the "liberal media" are full of it when it comes to talk radio—it's nothing but conservatives!  I'm not just talking national names like Limbaugh/ Hannity/Dr. Laura, either—it's local people too.  And it's all this "us-versus-them" mentality, as opposed to actually discussing the damn issues.  And if I didn't know any better, I'd swear that conservatives want this Iraq war to just go on forever and ever.  Liberal media, my ass...

GET WITH THE TIMES, PLEASE
Memo to the states of Kentucky and Illinois:  Please lose the damn 65 MPH speed limit on the Interstates!  Everyone else does 70, why don't you?  As the late John Lennon once said, "It gets on my tit!"

CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #35
"Iron Man"--BLACK SABBATH (1969)  Minor misinterpretations here, but worthy of note.  I thought "Heavy boots of lead..." was "Having boots of lead..." and "Does he walk at all?" was "Does he walk and talk?"  Ozzy never has been terribly easy to understand, has he?

IT DOESN'T GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS—EVER!
Seems that the Kansas City Royals are looking for suggestions for a signature tune to play during the 7th inning stretch right after the traditional "Take Me Out To The Ballgame".  Apparently, the obvious choice of The Beatles' "Kansas City/Hey Hey Hey Hey" isn't good enough, and they are soliciting other suggestions.  Tony's Kansas City blog suggested The Beatles' "I'm A Loser" and Phil Collins' "I Missed Again", among others, and I have a few choice picks of my own:

10) "Road To Nowhere"—Talking Heads
9) "Low Budget"—The Kinks
8) "Funeral For A Friend"—Elton John
7) "I'm Tore Down"—Eric Clapton
6) "No More, No More"—Aerosmith
5) "Rock And A Hard Place"—Rolling Stones
4) "I Can't Stand It"—Eric Clapton
3) "Crawling From The Wreckage"—Dave Edmunds
2) "Beautiful Loser"—Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band
1) "Rock Bottom"—Kiss

Travelblog--Part 1

"Alright, kids, now that I've recovered from the trip I've been on, time to share a few highlights from it...

SOULSVILLE, U.S.A.
My first stop on Saturday morning in Memphis was the Stax Museum of American Soul Music, and it pretty much set the tone for the entire trip, as it turned out to be a very educational experience for me, even though I consider myself pretty knowledgeable when it comes to popular music—just goes to show that you're never too old to learn.  Even I had never quite realized how prolific Stax and its associated labels were in the late '60s and early '70s—Booker T & The MG's, Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, the Staple Singers, Carla Thomas, Sam & Dave, Aretha Franklin, The Bar-Kays, Al Green, early Ike & Tina Turner, Johnnie Taylor, Rufus Thomas—they were basically the Motown of the South, and their output was more prodigious than I ever realized, thus prompting me to buy the book that chronicles the history of Stax.

I always thought the name "Stax" was a play on words as in "stacks of wax", but it was actually an amalgam of its founders, Jim STewart and Estelle AXton.  Not unlike Motown, the Stax recording studio was active day and night in the late '60s, and local white musicians like bassist Donald "Duck" Dunn and guitarist "Play it" Steve Cropper (you may know them better from the Blues Brothers) would work together with black singers, musicians and producers like Isaac Hayes and David Porter, among many others, to produce some damn fine music, and color was never an issue, even in the racially-divided Deep South.  I was also totally unaware of an event that took place in 1972 at the L.A. Coliseum called Wattstax--a soul/R&B Woodstock featuring Mr. Hayes (aka "Chef" to you "South Park" fans).  You can read all about it on the 'net, but suffice to say that this museum did a great job of resurrecting the history of Stax, right down to the building itself, which is a replica of the old movie theater they converted into a recording studio, which was subsequently torn down in the late '80s after Stax went out of business.  The museum was built on the exact same spot, and it's totally worth the trip through a rather seedy neighborhood to get there.  An A+ in my book!

"CALLIN' ELVIS—IS ANYBODY HOME?..."
I paid a courtesy call to Elvis next, but being as it was Saturday and there was a two-hour wait for the mansion tour, and being as I'd done it before anyway, I decided to pass.  I merely roamed around and snapped a few photos of Elvisland, which is a major tourist trap.  The graffiti on the outer walls of Graceland is mildly entertaining, mainly because most of these people can't spell worth a damn...







DOWNTOWN MEMPHIS
I was rather impressed with Memphis' new minor league baseball stadium, Autozone Park, located just a couple blocks from the Beale Street entertainment district.  Looks like a great place to watch a ballgame, and it fits in perfectly with its surroundings.  I also checked out a nice park on the west side of downtown that features several Civil War-related statues and overlooks the mighty Mississippi and Mud Island, which houses an outdoor amphitheater.  Between all that and Beale Street, I find it rather pathetic that a city the size of Memphis can blow away Kansas City when it comes to downtown attractions.  I hope to hell this new Power & Light District/Sprint Center helps reverse that trend...

SMITHSONIAN ROCK & SOUL MUSEUM
Attached at the hip to the new FedEx Forum arena is the Smithsonian Rock & Soul Museum, which is rather generalized, but still worth a look.  One major thing I took away from it was the impact of the first black-owned radio station in America, WDIA AM 1070 in Memphis, which still plays old school R&B to this day.  I had never ever heard of them before, but apparently they were quite instrumental in the success of Stax Records, as well as Soul music in general (the black version of Country music's WSM in Nashville, if you will).  If nothing else, the Smithsonian thing was worth it alone for having Isaac Hayes' gold-plated 1972 Cadillac pimp-mobile on display!

More to come later...

Thus endeth another road trip...

I have returned!  As you can see, I did indeed find the Cadillac with Tennessee plates, and I had an awesome sojourn through the Mid-South and enjoyed myself thoroughly in Memphis and Nashville.  Let's put it this way, about all I have to complain about on this trip was the weather (muckin' fuggy, esp. in Memphis), the traffic lights (they suck in Tennessee), too many panhandlers in Memphis and a few noisy knuckleheads at the hotels I stayed at.  Beyond that, I accomplished pretty much everything I set out to do in what was the first road trip I've ever done that didn't involve a sporting event.  This wound up being the Musical History Tour for me, and it turned out to be very educational, too.



It doesn't appear that I missed a whole helluva lot while I was gone, either—all I heard on the radio and TV all weekend was "Sopranos"-this and Paris Hilton-that—great timing on my part.  I will share more photos and stories from the trip, but I'm beat and reality is setting in that it's time to put the cow horns back on the Cadilliac (Pontiac?) and change the message on the Code-A-Phone, i.e., I gotta go back to work tomorrow.  Much more to come later...

Alright, hold tight--I'm a Highway Star...

Time once again to put the ol’ blog on hiatus for a bit whilst I do a little road trip. I’m heading to Memphis in the meantime lookin' for the Cadillac with Tennessee plates, not to mention hanging out with Elvis on Saturday, then visiting a new destination for me on Sunday, the capitol of Country Music (and Tennessee), Nashville. I might return home Monday night, or if I’m having a really good time, I’ll be home sometime Tuesday.

I'll give your regards to Charlie Daniels and/or John Hiatt if I should bump into either of them...

Adios, amigos!

"They Died Young"--Volume III

'80s/'90s THROW-AWAYS
It just amazes me how multi-million dollar projects like sports arenas can become irrelevant or outdated so quickly in this day and age.  What was once deemed "state-of-the-art" is already obsolete in many cases, and it’s incredible how some indoor sports venues become so useless so rapidly.  Here’s a look at a few examples:

MIAMI ARENA
There was a time when Miami had trouble attracting indoor sports franchises because the city didn’t have a suitable arena to play in.  Now, they have too many!  Miami Arena opened in 1988 as the home of the NBA's Miami Heat and Univ. of Miami basketball teams, and later served as the first home of the NHL’s Florida Panthers.  Nice arena, but with two major flaws:  1) it had no luxury suites (a curse that has befallen more than a few sports arenas before their time), and 2) it sits on the edge of a really bad neighborhood.  By the late ‘90s, both pro teams built separate new arenas—the Heat moved about three blocks down the street by the bay and the Panthers moved up to Broward County to an arena that's already had three different corporate names since it opened in 1998.  The U. of M. stayed on at Miami Arena for a while, but they opened their own place on campus in 2003 and the "Pink Elephant" has been shuttered and mostly likely is doomed to be demolished soon.

CHARLOTTE COLISEUM
This gargantuan arena, once known as "The Hive", also opened in 1988 and was home of the expansion Charlotte Hornets of the NBA, and was also considered a premier venue for NCAA Tournament games, including the 1994 Final Four.  The Coliseum got off to a rocky start too, as its huge eight-sided main scoreboard broke loose and crashed to the floor the day after it opened in '88.  In spite of holding nearly 23,000 fans, the Coliseum was done in by the same tactical error that closed Miami Arena—no luxury suites.  That, combined with a dickhead owner (George Shinn), caused the Hornets to bolt for New Orleans in 2002.  The NBA quickly granted Charlotte a new franchise, the Bobcats, who played their first season in 2004-05 at the Coliseum until their fancy new downtown digs opened, and the Coliseum closed for good later in 2005 and was demolished just last weekend.  One would think you could get at least 20 years out of a new arena these days…

THE PYRAMID
One of the more clever arena designs ever conceived is The Pyramid in Memphis.  They figured since their namesake city in Egypt had pyramids, why couldn’t they?  This beautiful glass and steel structure is the 3rd-largest pyramid in the world and opened in 1991 as home of the U. of Memphis basketball team, as well as concerts and tractor pulls, et al.  That ol’ no-suites bugaboo struck here too, and when the Vancouver Grizzlies of the NBA moved to town, it was contingent upon building a new suite-laden downtown arena, thus the FexEx Forum was put up right next to the Beale Street entertainment district.  Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band closed out The Pyramid with a concert on February 3rd of this year, and now the building awaits its fate, although it may be spared the wrecking ball because the city still owes a shitload of money on it—Dick Clark might call it the "$33 Million Pyramid".  There is talk of converting it into a Bass Pro Shops outdoorsman emporium or perhaps a casino or aquarium.  Worse comes to worse, they could always turn the place into a Super Mega Hooters...

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'70s THROW-AWAYS
This phenomenon of going through sports arenas like used cars isn’t confined to the ‘80s and ‘90s, either—several ‘70s venues barely even lasted 25 years.

THE OMNI
The funky-looking Omni in Atlanta with its waffle iron-like roof was home to the dreaded Hawks of the NBA and the expansion Flames of the NHL when it opened in ’72.  It even hosted the NCAA Final Four in 1977, but Atlanta sports fans have this aversion to supporting losing teams, and the Flames bolted to Calgary in 1980, while the Hawks labored in mediocrity for nearly two decades (except during their halcyon days with Dominique Wilkins and Spud Webb).  The Omni decayed rapidly over that time, and Atlanta managed to snag a new NHL team, the Thrashers, so a new arena was needed.  Nextdoor neighbor CNN aired The Omni’s implosion live on July 26, 1997 and Philips Arena was built on the site.

CAPITAL CENTRE
The Capital Centre in suburban Landover, MD outside Washington, DC opened a year after The Omni, and lured the NBA’s Bullets out of Baltimore, as well as the expansion Capitals of the NHL, and also served as home to the Georgetown Hoyas basketball team.  The Cap Centre, with it’s distinctive saddle-shaped roof, was the first indoor sports arena to employ video replay screens, but was not well-regarded by fans because of its dark and depressing seating area (except during concerts when it was supposed to be dark anyway).  Perhaps the most famous event at the Cap Centre was the OT marathon in Game 7 of the 1987 NHL playoffs between the Caps and the New York Islanders where Pat LaFontaine of the Isles poked in the game-winner at 8:47 of the 4th overtime.  By the mid ‘90s, the place showed its age too, and was replaced in 1997 by the "Insert-cellphone-company-name-here" Center in DC, just a few blocks from the White House.  The Cap Centre sat vacant for five years and was imploded on December 15, 2002.

McNICHOLS ARENA
Denver’s McNichols Sports Arena was a rather nondescript flat white arena built into a hillside nextdoor to Mile High Stadium that opened in 1975.  It was home of the ABA/NBA Denver Nuggets, the NHL’s Colorado Rockies (not to be confused with the baseball team of the same name) from 1976-82, several minor league hockey teams in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and finally the NHL’s Colorado Avalanche, who won the Stanley Cup in their first season in Denver in 1995-96.  Quite possibly "Big Mac"'s biggest claim to fame happened in 1976 during the old American Basketball Association's All-Star Game festivities, which featured one of the first slam dunk competitions ever held, where Julius "Dr. J." Erving electrified the crowd with an unforgettable running slam dunk for which he became airborne literally at the free throw line.  The NBA soon copied this event for their own All-Star weekend events.  But, just like its fellow '70s-era arena brethren, McNichols had very few extra amenities and fell to the wrecking ball in the summer of 1999 to make room for more parking for the Denver Broncos' new stadium, while the Nuggets and Avs moved about a mile away to the new Pepsi Center on the edge of downtown.

What I find really ironic about the above three venues is that the arenas they were built to replace are still standing and still in use.  Atlanta's Alexander Memorial Coliseum is still home to Georgia Tech basketball, Baltimore Civic Arena (now known as First Mariner Center) still houses indoor soccer's Baltimore Blast, and Denver Coliseum, former home of the Nuggets, still hosts small concerts, rodeos and circuses on a regular basis.

Current events and such

REALITY VS. "REALITY"
Big story in K.C. and around the country the last few days has been the Kelsey Smith abduction and murder.  Very tragic indeed, and my condolences go out to her friends and family, and it’s a shame there wasn’t a happy ending here.  But, I’m at least glad that her body was found relatively quickly and that this didn’t turn into another one of those protracted ordeals with the nightly news updates like the Natalee Holloway thing that the media gets a hold of simply because a pretty white girl was the victim.  Don't mean to be insensitive here, but couldn't you just see ol’ Greta Van Susterererern chomping at the bit, wanting to make this case her own personal cause and solve the mystery?  Do you think this story would have garnered as much media coverage if Kelsey Smith was an ugly black, Hispanic or Asian girl?  Hell, no—the media wouldn’t have given two shits about her (probably not even one shit).  Once again, what should have remained a local story got picked up by the national networks and they milked it for ratings.  Thanks to them, we have probably been given every little detail about this girl’s life, right down to her shoe size as well as her bra size, but what about all the other victims of this same kind of crime—how come all those other discarded souls out there don’t get equal time?  We viewers are just as guilty when it comes this kind of hypocrisy too (me included)—this kind of thing happens every day in this country, but only when the affluent, attractive ones are the victims do we seem to give a damn.

I also love how all the radio talk show people and TV news people suddenly morph into armchair police detectives and experts on crime and parking lot security when something like this happens.  I heard this idiot radio hostess this morning saying, "That girl should have fought and kicked and scratched to get away from this guy..." (or words to that effect).  Don’t you think she tried all that, but was unable to?  And then there was that know-it-all Nancy Grace bitch on CNN last night commenting on the "person of interest" in the security camera video (before he was arrested):  "Don’t you think this person would have come forward by now to let the authorities know that he WASN’T the guy who did this?"  Duhhhh, because he probably IS the one WHO DID IT, numb-nuts!  Dammit, what I wouldn't give for Homey The Clown to whop that woman over the head with his sock just once…

While I’m on media hypocrisy, could someone please explain to me one more time why I should give a good Goddamn about these no-talent drunken bimbos like Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and Nicole Richie going in and out of rehab and/or jail?  I must be a jaded old fuck, because I just don’t get why we (as a society) make celebrities out of these twits, much less obsess over their downfalls the way people do.  George Carlin was damn right:  "It’s a great country, but it’s a straaaange culture!"  Get a fucking life, America!!!

HEY, NIEDERMAYER!!!
Congrats to my boy Scott Niedermayer and the Anaheim Ducks for winning the Stanley Cup last night!  He was always a favorite player of mine during his time with the New Jersey Devils and their three Stanley Cup wins, and was very instrumental in my own fantasy hockey championship this season, so it was great to not only see him hoist the Cup as the Mighty Quacks’ captain, but also to see him win the Conn Smythe Trophy as the playoff M.V.P.  Now that the hockey season is over, there will be a spike in razor and shaving cream sales as the players shed their "playoff beards".

The NHL also needs to address their abysmally low TV ratings for the finals, where they were getting drubbed nightly by "Dukes of Hazzard" reruns (I think that episode with the car chase in it was on last night).  Hell, even test patterns were outdrawing hockey this week.  No doubt the 2004-05 labor dispute/lockout has a lot to do with people tuning out, but it’s still a great game, and I hope they turn things around soon.  One thing they’ve gotta do is get on a more prominent TV network, and for Pete's sake, shorten the damn playoffs!  It takes two full months to do four playoff rounds, and if the Finals had gone the distance, they would have played Game 7 next Monday.  Even though I love hockey to death, it’s nuckin’ futs that they’re still playing in June.  Hockey is a winter sport—they should either start the regular season earlier or shorten it, play doubleheaders, whatever—anything to ensure the playoffs end by Memorial Day, at the latest…

There also may be some merit to what others have suggested that there are too many teams in the NHL, thus diluting the talent pool and caliber of play.  Contraction might not be such a bad thing in this case—do we really need two teams in L.A.?  Three teams in the New York area?  Two in Florida?  Do we really need the Phoenix Coyotes at all?  Something to think about…

S’LONG TRENT, BEEN GOOD TA KNOW YA…
The Trent Green/Chiefs soap opera finally came to an end this week, as they finally worked out a trade with the Miami Dolphins.  Hate to see him go, but it’s time.  He had a great run here, but his best days are behind him as a player, and the Chiefs need to move on and I really think Green should retire—he’s one more concussion away from being a vegetable.  Trent's crazy if he thinks he's going to play another 3-4 years, but hey, more power to him if he does...

CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #34
"The Beat Goes On"—SONNY & CHER (1967) "Charleston was once a rage, uh-huh…" Sonny sang it like he was saying something about Charo, the singer, not Charleston, the '20s dance craze.  "Charo’s tits were once a rage, uh-huh..."  Would’ve fit right in long about 1973…

LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT, ALREADY!
Seems that the Fred Phelps’ clan of Neanderthals was at it again this week, stirring up trouble while picketing another soldier’s funeral in Nebraska, for which Phelps’ sister/overzealous lawyer Shirley Phelps-Roper was arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.  Seems that her ten-year-old son was involved, standing/stomping on an American flag as part of their protest over our country’s alleged harboring of gay people.  "Every symbol of the rebellious, doomed America must necessarily be disrespected," Phelps-Roper said.  "We did our duty today to our God and fellow man.  Our job is to cause this nation to know her abomination.  The thing they worship, the flag, is worthless. It's a piece of cloth."

Okay, I'm hardly a flag-waver here, and I don't believe in all that symbolism crap, but this is pretty low-rent stuff, and I have a news flash for you, Shirl—there are homosexuals in every blasted country in the world!  And if y’all hate this country so damn much, then do the rest of us a big fucking favor and move to another country and do your protesting there, preferably somewhere in the Middle East.  I swear, these weirdos mystify me—it's as if they live just to spread hate and ugliness, and I can't help but wonder—what's in it for them?  I also can't help but wonder why any heterosexual man who can see clearly would fuck this woman even once!  I think I'd rather be queer than sleep with that ugly bitch...

It's STILL Rock 'N' Roll to me...

One of the coolest things about Rock ‘N’ Roll is it has the power to overcome the bullshit that even its own creators sometimes put forth and make you forget all about their pettiness, stupidity, arrogance, politics, etc., and it makes you remember what drew you to them in the first place.  For me, Ted Nugent is Exhibit A of that phenomenon.  As much as I’ve grown to dispise him these last few years for the things he’s said and what he represents to me now, I have to say that his music still stands up (most of it, anyway) after tracking through it this week.  I can't think of any other person I've ever been a major fan of who I've completely turned on like I have with Nugent (although Gene Simmons is pushing his luck with me, big-time), but even though he’s a complete dickhead to me now, this man was once my Rock ‘N’ Roll idol, and now I remember why…

The "Motor City Madman" first came to fame as a member of Detroit’s Amboy Dukes, one of the first American hard Rock bands to emerge in the late ‘60s, who were best known for the classic "Journey To The Center of The Mind", as well as a primal remake of Joe Williams’ "Baby, Please Don’t Go" (later a Nugent concert staple).  The early lineup of the group clashed with Nugent’s anti-drug stance and most of them were replaced by the early ‘70s and Nugent added his name to the band’s official name.  The best album from the Amboy Dukes era was the final one, 1974’s Tooth, Fang & Claw, which featured the classic "Great White Buffalo" and a manic version of Chuck Berry’s "Maybelline".

Ted went solo (if you want to call it that—he still had a steady band) in 1975, and began working with singer-guitarist Derek St. Holmes on the eponymous Ted Nugent album, featuring the classic "Stranglehold" as well as "Hey Baby", which wound up being a fairly sizeable hit, and still gets regular airplay today on the radio and is also a bar-band standard.  St. Holmes’ smooth vocals combined with Nugent’s guitar playing was a formidable combination on tracks like "Stormtroopin’", "Just What The Doctor Ordered" and the hidden gem "Queen of The Forest", but Ted’s ego couldn’t handle having another member of his band—especially a good-looking one that female fans were partial to—stealing any of the spotlight from him, so for 1976’s Free-For-All, he brought in the then-unknown Meat Loaf to sing on several tracks just a year before he got really big (both literally and figuratively).  Even with his diminished role, St. Holmes still sang on standout tracks "Dog Eat Dog" and a personal favorite of mine, "Turn It Up".

The high point of Nugent’s career is 1977-78, as by that time he was selling out arenas and stadiums across the land on the strength of the Cat Scratch Fever LP.  The title track even made the Top 40 (at the height of the disco era, no less), and the album included the classic "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang", as well as three grossly underrated Nugent songs, "Sweet Sally", "Out of Control" and the instrumental "Home Bound".  Double Live Gonzo! followed in ’78 and documented Nugent in concert quite well, featuring a good mix of old and new songs (including "Yank Me, Crank Me" and "Gonzo"), but curiously, nothing from Free-For-All.  The album is worth it alone for Nugent’s stage raps—"Anybody wants to get mellow, you can turn around and get the fuck outta here!"; "This guitar can blow the balls of a charging rhino at 60 paces…"; "This is a love song—I wanna dedicate this to all that Nashville pussy…" (hence the band named Nashville Pussy).  Gonzo! was Nugent’s finest hour, in my opinion, and probably my second-favorite live album of all-time behind Kiss Alive!.

(Yes, I know, Alive! was loaded with overdubs and wasn’t totally live, but Kiss ain’t the only major band guilty of this practice--Cheap Trick At Budokan wasn’t all live either, nor was Frampton Comes Alive, and I have my suspicions that neither of W.A.S.P’s "live" albums were truly live at all! But I digress…)

Derek St. Holmes left Nugent to form Whitford-St. Holmes with Brad Whitford of Aerosmith during that band’s temporary disintegration in the late ‘70s, and Ted replaced him with singer-guitarist Charlie Huhn.  Huhn’s a decent singer, but he didn’t command near as much attention from the fans as St. Holmes did—just the way Nugent wanted it—but still, the next couple albums weren’t too shabby.  Although Weekend Warriors wasn’t chuck-full of hits, it was a very solid effort with great tunes like "Need You Bad", "I Got The Feelin’", "Cruisin'" and the title track.  State of Shock followed in 1979 with Nugent branching out a little by including a ballad called "Alone" (sung by Huhn) about his divorce from his wife Sandra (who later was killed while driving drunk in 1982) and a terrific cover version of George Harrison’s underrated Beatles tune "I Want To Tell You".  The album’s opening track, "Paralyzed", featured Ted playing with his wah-wah (pedal), and "Snake Charmer", "Bite Down Hard" were both standout tracks.  Then things began to unravel…

Nugent stumbled into the ‘80s with Scream Dream, an album I really liked at the time, but one that hasn’t aged well with me over the years, particularly because of sophomoric songs like "Wango Tango" and "Terminus Eldorado".  The wheels came off altogether in 1981 with the release of Intensities In 10 Cities, a live album that featured ten new tracks, each recorded in a different city while on tour.  As if the contrived album title wasn’t bad enough, the songs were even worse with bullshit macho bravado like "My Love Is Like A Tire Iron", "Spontaneous Combustion", "The Flying Lip Lock" and a really lame version of Wilson Pickett’s "Land of 1000 Dances" (which is a lame song to begin with, IMHO).  "Terrible Ted" was living up to his nickname here—that album was just abysmal!

Nugent’s career hit rock bottom with Intensities, and he never has fully recovered from it.  Long about that same time, Epic Records dropped him like a bad habit, and Ted also went bankrupt (blaming other people he had hired for it, rather than looking in the mirror first), but just when everyone was about to write him off, he made a nice little comeback after resurfacing on Atlantic Records with 1982’s Nugent album, and oh, what a coincidence—Derek St. Holmes was back!  Suddenly, the songwriting and vocals improved and the record was pretty solid, featuring songs like "Good And Ready", "Fightin’ Words" and "Bound And Gagged", Nugent’s reaction to the Iran hostage crisis that he sang with great gusto, back when his psuedo-patriotism actually seemed sincere.  Unfortunately, the reunion with St. Holmes was short-lived, and Nugent slid backwards with 1984’s Penetrator, featuring singer Brian Howe (who later joined Bad Company) and most of Billy Squier’s band, plus something I never thought I’d hear on a Ted Nugent record (gulp!)—synthesizers!  Little Miss Dangerous in 1986 was pretty lackluster too, and Nuge bottomed-out again in 1988 on the uninspired If You Can’t Lick ‘Em…Lick ‘Em, with Ted handling all the vocals himself.  Surprisingly, the result was downright dull—a rare description for any Nugent record.  The only halfway-decent track on that album was "That’s The Story Of Love", for which Nugent needed an assist from Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora just to reach mediocrity.

Then came the Damn Yankees era, which gave Ted a perfect excuse to abandon his own career for a while and play with two guys from bands he used to term "wimpy"—Tommy Shaw of Styx and Jack Blades of Night Ranger.  The two DY albums were highly successful, but Nugent's contribution to them is barely noticeable at times—they could have just as easily brought in Neal Schon of Journey or Craig Chaquico of Jefferson Starship and those albums would have sold just as well because the material was more of a draw than Nugent's name.  After recently watching a Damn Yankees concert video on VH-1 Classic, it really hit me how out-of-place the Rev. Theodosius Atrocious looked with this band—sorta like if David Lee Roth joined Toto or something...

Nugent somehow managed to re-emerge in 1995 with his best album in years, Spirit of The Wild, and wouldn’t you know it, Derek St. Holmes was back again!  Anyone notice a pattern here?  The album went largely unnoticed, but I thought it was a damn good record with St. Holmes’ vocals standing out on "Heart And Soul" and the title track.  It also included a song Nugent originally recorded in 1989 for some wildlife cause called "Fred Bear".  Even though I couldn’t give a monkey’s spleen about hunting, I still think it’s a cool song all the same.  Spirit also contains what has become a Nugent concert staple, "Kiss My Ass", replete with its role call of people who chafe Ted’s hiney—the Clintons, Janet Reno, Howard Stern, liberals, et al.  I simply substitute Dubya, Cheney, Geraldo, Bill O’Reilly, Barry Bonds, etc., when I sing along to it and the song works just dandy!

Sadly, we haven’t heard much musically from Sweaty Teddy since then, just a lot of radical right wing vitriol and bigotry, but I’ve been through that already (see my December entry "Fallen Idols").  I do have one new little point about Ted that I previously omitted:  if Nugent is so gung-ho about the military and defending his country, then where was he during the Vietnam War?  Oh, that’s right—his tour of duty then was with the Amboy Dukes, not the Armed Services…

My all-time Ted Nugent Top 10:

1) "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" [Live] (1978)

2) "Stormtroopin'" [Live] (1978)

3) "Turn It Up" (1976)

4) "Great White Buffalo" [Live] (1978)

5) "Motor City Madhouse" [Live] (1978)

6) "Just What The Doctor Ordered" (1975)

7) "Kiss My Ass" (1995)

8) "Bound And Gagged" (1982)

9) "Free-For-All" (1976)

10) "Home Bound" (1977)

"They Died Young"--Volume II

Metropolitan Stadium/Met Sports Center--Bloomington, MN

The Twin Cities almost overnight became Major League in 1961 as the Washington Senators of the American League moved there and became the Twins, and the expansion Minnesota Vikings of the National Football League began play that year.  Both teams called Metropolitan Stadium their home for the next 20 years.  The stadium was only about five years old, having been built in the mid-50's as a minor league baseball park, and it rose up like a huge erector set over the prairie on the southern reaches of the metro area, just across the highway from the Twin Cities' main airport.  "The Met" was hardly the prettiest ballpark ever built, but the fans loved the place warts and all, and the stadium went from minor league status to hosting the World Series in less than ten years.

Met Stadium was initially a triple-deck grandstand that basically hugged the baseball infield, but it went through numerous expansions throughout its history to accomodate both the Twins and the Vikings that gave the stadium an odd, patchy quality about it that was both a blessing and a curse—blessing in that it gave the place a certain home-y charm, curse in that poor planning wound up being the stadium's downfall eventually.  Compared with modern-day stadiums, the Met was very substandard in many ways—too few bathrooms, narrow concourses, only a handful of concession stands throughout the park and "temporary" seating areas that wound up being permanent, plus traffic after games was a total nightmare some nights.  The stadium was also poorly-maintained over time, and at one point near the end of the park's tenure, the third deck behind home plate had to be closed-off because it had become unsafe.

Still, the stadium had plenty of moments in the sun, thanks to fielding two fairly competitive tenants.  The fans took to both the Twins and Vikings almost right away, as the Twins had stars like slugger Harmon Killebrew, pitcher Jim Kaat and outfielder Tony Oliva, and the Vikings had QB Fran Tarkenton and their famed "Purple People Eater" defense.  The Twins made the World Series in just their fifth season in Minnesota in 1965, falling to Sandy Koufax and the L.A. Dodgers, and the Vikings were a consistent playoff team in the NFL, and played in their first Super Bowl against the Chiefs after the '69 season.  Outdoor soccer also thrived there in the '70s with the NASL's Minnesota Kicks, and in spite of the often-brutal weather conditions for Vikings games at The Met, the fans turned out in droves, and also pioneered the art of tailgating before and after games, even in the dead of winter.

Meantime, just across the parking lot, Metropolitan Sports Center opened in 1967, served as the Twin Cities' main indoor sporting venue for many years, including as the home of the NHL's expansion Minnesota North Stars.  Met Center was a no-frills arena, but was well-liked by both players and fans for its superior ice surface and great sightlines and atmosphere.  Its color scheme in the seating area was distinctive with randomly colored seats in the North Stars' green, gold and white, but on game nights you couldn't see it anyway, since all 15,000 seats were filled most of the time.  Unfortunately, by the '90s, the North Stars' owner demanded a new arena, and despite continued support from the fans of Minnesota and a Stanley Cup finals appearance in 1991, douche-bag owner Norman Green packed up the team anyway and moved them to Dallas for the 1993-94 season.  Why the team couldn't have just moved to the perfectly good new Target Center in Minneapolis (which opened in 1990) is a mystery to me.  Either way, the Met Center's fate was sealed and it never even made it to the age of 30, and was demolished in 1994.  Ironically, when they tried to implode the place, it defiantly refused to fall and they wound up razing the arena the old-fashioned way.

Met Stadium, on the other hand, more or less fell apart on its own, and the Vikings were especially vocal about wanting a new stadium by the late '70s, since the Met was then one of the smaller stadiums in the NFL.  Renovation of The Met was not an option in their eyes, and when it was all said and done, both teams moved indoors downtown to that scourge of stadium construction, the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome, in 1982.  While the Twins have thrived there at times, winning the World Series in 1987 and 1991, the Vikings never have been quite the same team, exchanging their mystique as the tough team that battled the snow and cold for a rather wimpy persona playing in a cushy environment.  Ironically, in their final games at the Met in 1981, both the Twins and Vikings lost to Kansas City's Royals and Chiefs, respectively.  Following that last Vikings game, fans stormed the field and tried to dismantle the stadium themselves and were fairly successful at it.  Thus, Metropolitan Stadium was a mere youngster at age 25 when it closed, having served as a Major League stadium for only 20 years.  After standing dormant and decaying rapidly (see left), Met Stadium was officially demolished in 1985 to make way for the mighty Mall of America, where they marked in bronze the location of home plate on the floor of the mall's indoor amusement park.

I never got to see the stadium in person, although the arena was still in use during a visit to Bloomington in 1985, but I have vivid memories of watching games from the Met on TV back in the '70s.  Every time the Royals played the Twins on TV, I could swear that Rod Carew always led off the game with a freakin' base hit!  The Royals could never get that bastard out, even though they were the superior team at that time.  And because of our close proximity to the Twin Cities, we got more than a few Vikings games on TV on NFL Sundays, to the point where I was rather sick of looking at Fran Tarkenton after a while.  There is an outstanding website that chronicles both the rise and decline of Met Stadium, as well as many fan recollections thereof.  The photos taken after the decaying stadium closed are especially interesting.

Things are also looking up in Twins Country too, as construction has begun on their new open-air ballpark which will open in 2010 right nextdoor to Target Center on the west side of Minneapolis.  This will right what has been a major wrong since 1982—it's an absolute crime to be playing baseball indoors on such beautiful summer evenings like they have in the upper Midwest!  As for the Vikings, they're still dilly-dallying around about a new stadium, although the latest idea has them moving in with the U. of Minnesota when their new on-campus stadium is built in a couple years until they can tear down the Metrodome and put up a new stadium with a retractable roof on the site.  I have a better idea—why not just rip the bubble dome off the Metrodome, enlarge the existing stadium and put a retractable roof on it?  Probably would be cheaper and serve the team just as well.

Motherhood?

The first and only time I ever got vanity plates on my car was back in the early '90s, but friends and strangers alike often asked me why my plates said "motherhood".  Thus, I was forced to explain that 'MOTRHD' stood for a band that I was heavily into at that time, the mighty Motorhead.  I originally tried to get 'MTRHED', but it was already taken, and thanks to the state of Missouri, we could only have six digits on vanity plates (Kansas allows seven, the bastards!).  Anyway, it was my salute to one of the most legendary and hardest-hitting heavy metal bands of all-time.

I first got into Motorhead long about 1988, thanks to MTV (of all things), and their "Headbanger's Ball" that aired every Saturday night.  They always played at least one Motorhead video each week, and the first one that caught my ear was a live performance of "Mean Machine".  The album's title caught my eye too—Orgasmatron—so I picked it up not long after that and was instantly hooked.  This was the loudest, rawest, raunchiest and heaviest record I had ever heard, and I was immediately drawn to Motorhead's founder and leader Lemmy (born Ian Kilmister).  The guy has one of the worst singing voices in the world, but for some reason, he was able to make it work with the type of music he wrote and played.  Pretty soon, I was buying up everything else the band had done up to that point, and those tapes certainly made my 53-mile commute to and from the radio station in St. Joseph during the summer of '88 a lot more fun—I still have fond memories of those early Sunday mornings after working graveyard shift screaming through the sleepy little towns along Hiway 169 in my '87 T-Bird with Lemmy and the boys cranked up full blast!

For whatever reason, I was unaware in 1988 of Motorhead's already-legendary status as metal gods via 1980's "Ace Of Spades", which is a certifiable Rock classic, as well as other gems like "Iron Fist", "Bomber" and "The Chase Is Better Than The Catch", but I quickly learned on the fly, and it wasn't long before Lemmy (so-named for his penchant for begging friends for money—"lend me a fiver", etc.) had more or less replaced Ted Nugent as my crazy surrogate Rock 'N' Roll uncle/father figure.  The dude has chrisma, isn't as arrogant (or bigoted) as Nugent, and he has a wry sense of humor in his lyrics too.  In fact, that's what really sets Motorhead apart for me compared with similar heavy metal bands—their humor and how they don't take themselves all that seriously.  Take Metallica, for instance—I've never gotten into that band, even though their music is not unlike Motorhead's sonically, because the subject matter of their songs is usually too tedious and dead-dog serious all the time.  You don't get lines like "You got a body like a Marshall stack" (from "Dr. Rock") or "Don't run, baby--don't call a cop" (from "Damage Case"), or "As we dismember you, we shall remember you" (from "Traitor") on a Metallica record.  Fuck "One", "For Whom The Bell Tolls" and "Master of Puppets"—I'll take songs like "Jailbait", "Love Me Like A Reptile" and "Killed By Death" any day over Metallica's stuff...

Lemmy, who was once a roadie for Jimi Hendrix, put Motorhead together in 1977 after leaving the band Hawkwind (taking their name from the Hawkwind song "Motorhead") and the band was initially a three-piece with Lemmy on bass and vocals, Phil "Philthy Animal" Taylor on drums and "Fast" Eddie Clarke on guitar.  Clarke left in 1982 to form the band Fastway (of "Say What You Will" fame), and was replaced by former Thin Lizzy guitarist Brian Robertson for the rather disastrous 1983 LP Another Perfect Day.  Then Lemmy completely overhauled the band in 1984, making it a four-piece with new drummer Pete Gill (formerly of Saxon) and two new guitarists, Phil Campbell and Mick Burston, who went by the name "Wurzel".  "Little Philthy" returned for 1987's Rock 'N' Roll album, and left again for good in 1992 and was replaced by Mikkey Dee.  Wurzel left after 1993's Bastards CD, and Motorhead has been a three-piece ever since, with Campbell and Dee remaining to this day.  Take notes—you'll be tested on this later...

If there's such a thing as a musical power scale that resembles a car's speedometer, my own personal musical power range would have Air Supply at the 0 end, The Partridge Family at 5, The Carpenters at 10, ABBA at 20, The Go-Go's at 35, John Hiatt at 45, The Beatles at about 55, The Stones at 60, ZZ Top at 65, The Who at 75, Van Halen at 80, Kiss at 90, W.A.S.P. at 105 and Motorhead would peg out at 120! They are as loud and testosterony as I'm liable to get—anything faster or louder (like Pantera, Slayer, et al) is just noise to me.  I saw Motorhead live back in 1999 at Roadhouse Ruby's in Olathe, or "Almost-Kansas City", as Lemmy called us, and he offered some sage advice early on in the show:  "Don't dance to this—you'll fuck your legs up!" I was deaf for two days afterward, and I fucking loved it!

Now if we could just ascertain the answer to Brother Beavis' question about Lemmy: "How come he's got those two Cocoa Puffs stuck to his cheek?"...

My all-time Motorhead Top 10
1) "Dr. Rock" (1986)
2) "On Your Feet Or On Your Knees" (1993)
3) "Traitor" (1987)
4) "Deaf Forever" (1986)
5) "Love Me Like A Reptile" (1980)
6) "Killed By Death" (1984)
7) "Bomber" (1979)
8) "Going To Brazil" (1991)
9) "Born To Raise Hell" (1993)
10) "Damage Case" (1978)

"They Died Young"--Volume I (of an occasional series)

As an aficionado of sports arenas and stadiums, I’m rather fascinated by those that had a relatively short life compared with venerable institutions like Fenway Park and Wrigley Field.  There was a time when sports venues would last 50-60 years or more, but the life expectancy for them now is much shorter.  Some arenas and stadiums are ill-conceived to begin with or become obsolete faster than others, while some just aren’t properly maintained and fall into disrepair and die before their time.  I'm rather sentimental when it comes to old stadiums and arenas, and I'm all for the preservation of them—I even feel a tinge of sadness when the crappy ones like the Kingdome in Seattle and Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium are demolished—and the past two decades have brought about an unprecedented wave of new stadium construction and/or renovation.  Every team seemingly wants a new place to play every 20 years or so, and I find it rather sad sometimes when perfectly good sports venues get tossed away like old cigarette lighters, so from time to time, I’m going to feature the ones who didn't quite reach the legendary status of Chicago Stadium or Yankee Stadium, much less senility like St. Louis Arena or old Comiskey Park...

Volume I: Richfield Coliseum
The NBA’s expansion Cleveland Cavaliers played their first four seasons at the outdated and inadequate Cleveland Arena from 1970-74, but got a major upgrade when they moved to their new home, the Richfield Coliseum, a wonderful arena—that stood practically in the middle of nowhere! Thanks to a bad idea that was conceived with the best of intentions, it was decided to locate the building exactly halfway between the cities of Cleveland and Akron, with the idea being that it would draw more fans from the surrounding area of nearly five million people (nearby Canton included) because the arena was more centrally-located for everyone.  Great idea—in theory.  Not-so-great in practice...

Richfield Township is your basic bump in the road, with just a few houses and farms scattered about.  When I visited there in May, 1991, I expected to find the arena surrounded by modern suburbia, so imagine my shock when I could see the thing standing all by itself on a hill from the Interstate about two miles away as I approached.  Hell, there wasn't even a gas station or a McDonald's or anything nearby—just a hulking concrete monolith in the middle of a huge parking lot surrounded by farmland as far as the eye could see.  There were basically only two main roads to get to the Coliseum—I-271 and Streetsboro Road which intersects it, and if either of them were congested because of accidents or bad weather on event nights, things quickly turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions.  Many’s the time events were delayed until most of the fans could get there (especially during snowstorms), and departing the facility was often a challenge as well.

 Too bad, too, because Richfield Coliseum was actually a great place to watch a sporting event.  It had great sight lines and was ahead of its time for the ‘70s with its video screens and numerous luxury suites that ringed the top of the arena, which held around 19,000 people for basketball and concerts, and a little less for hockey.  Parking was abundant too, but the main knock on the place (besides its location) was that the concourses were too small and claustrophobic on nights with big crowds—a common design flaw of ‘70s-era venues.

Frank Sinatra packed the place on its opening night in October, 1974, and fans actually did make the trek in droves to the nether world of Richfield for a few years, as the Cavs finally put a decent team on the court in the late ’70s and on into the ‘80s.  Perhaps the most famous sports moment in the Coliseum’s history was the last-second shot (oft-repeated on ESPN) made by Michael Jordan over Greg Ehlo in 1989 to beat the Cavaliers in the playoffs, after which MJ jumped around and pumped his fist triumphantly and the Chicago Bulls radio announcer screamed "THE BULLS WIN! THEY WIN IT!"  Big-league hockey had a cup of coffee in Richfield, as the NHL’s Cleveland Barons—the former California Golden Seals—transplanted from the Bay Area in 1976, and lasted only two miserable seasons before merging with the Minnesota North Stars in 1978.  But it was another team in another sport that truly kept the turnstiles spinning at Richfield Coliseum, the Major Indoor Soccer League’s Cleveland Force.  In spite of their gaudy canary yellow uniforms (see below), the Force was with Cleveland fans for over ten years during the early and mid-‘80s, at least until the novelty wore off and the team folded in 1988.

I had the pleasure of seeing two indoor soccer games at the Coliseum, and they turned out to be the final two games in the history of my beloved Kansas City Comets.  That's our man Gino Schiraldi in the above photo against the Farce, er uh, Force.  Not knowing for sure heading in that the end was near for the team (rumors had circled for months of the team's demise), I altered my original vacation plan that included an Orioles game at old Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, and I’m so glad I did.  I wound up seeing Game 6 and 7 of a rugged playoff series between the Comets and the Cleveland Crunch (who replaced the Force in 1989), and both games were thrillers, as the Comets staved off elimination in Game 6 on Thursday night by mounting a major comeback and won 8-6, and fell just short of making the MISL Championship series, losing Game 7 on Saturday 7-6.  Sadly, the Comets folded during the off-season, but at least I was there for the bitter end, and that meant a lot to me.  I never got to see a game at Memorial Stadium, either, but I guess we can’t have everything…

The end was near for Richfield Coliseum by that time too.  Attendance for Crunch games was mediocre, as it was for Cavs games (unless Jordan or Magic Johnson was in town), and it was readily apparent that the noble experiment of an arena in the boonies wasn’t working.  The Cleveland Indians were already building a new stadium downtown, and the Cavs wanted in on the gravy train, so they built their new joint, Gund Arena (now called Quicken Loans Arena—ewww), right next door to the Tribe’s Jacobs Field, thus spawning a renaissance for downtown Cleve-Land that I’d like to see Kansas City duplicate with the new Sprint Center.  Meanwhile, Richfield Coliseum closed in 1994—at the tender age of 20.  After standing dormant for about five years, the building was demolished in 1999 in a rather unique way—the arena was knocked down bit-by-bit (see photos below), and almost literally buried in its own basement and covered, and the land was returned to its original bucolic splendor.  During a visit there last fall, I could barely even make out where the place used to stand.  But it's not all bad in Richfield today—they do have a McDonald’s now...