Wednesday, February 29, 2012

4 (and 69 and 70 and 110 and 113 and 120)- the drummers

4 – 18th Avenue (Kansas City Nightmare) - Cat Stevens – 1972
AND
69 – Tonight, Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins – 1996
AND
70 – Won’t Get Fooled Again – The Who – 1971
AND
110 – Fire on High – ELO – 1978
AND
113 – Don’t Cry – Asia – 1983
AND


            I lumped these six songs together because they don’t evoke any specific memory for me, what they have in common is interesting percussion. Not being a musician (despite my several attempts to learn the guitar in the 60s), there’s a drum riff in each of these that I enjoy listening to, banging on my steering wheel as they play.

            In the case of “18th Avenue”, it’s a drum/percussion break near the end with Gerry Conway on drums, Cat Stevens on tambourine, and some crescendoing strings. I used to rewind and play my cassette, just to listen to that break. (Stephen Holden in Rolling Stone described it as ”(T)he album's most ambitious cut and in every way its best...In the cut's extended instrumental break, Bel(sic) Newman contributes one of his best string arrangements ever, and there is stunning percussion work by Cat and Gerry Conway.”)

            In “Tonight, Tonight” it’s Jimmy Chamberlain’s frenetic drum rolls in the choruses (and it conjures up the loopy goofiness of the video, an homage to Melies’ “A Trip to the Moon”, starring Spongebob Squarepants: Tom Kenny).

            In “Won’t Get Fooled Again” it’s Keith Moon’s licks just after the synthesizer interlude and just before the “YEAHHHHHHH!!!” (cue David Caruso and CSI: Miami). I particularly enjoy the version in the movie “The Kids Are Alright”, where all is dark during the synthesizer interlude except for Roger Daltrey, marching through the laser light show, then, as the interlude ends, Moon’s drums light up, as does Keith and then after his riff, Daltrey screams “YEEEAAHHHHH!!!” and as the lights come up full, Pete Townshend is seen sailing through the air, landing on his knees as he hatchets a chord, sliding across the sound stage.

            “Fire On High” by ELO contains some great bashing by Bev Bevan.

            “Don’t Cry” by Asia has some Carl Palmer rolls. I once asked a friend of mine, who was a drummer, why Carl Palmer was considered a drum god. He said it was because of the interesting choices he made in putting together his fills. I seem to recall he had about 20 different drums arrayed around his riser that he rolled across as he played (and the big gong that hung behind him when he was in Emerson, Lake, and Palmer). I saw him live at Poplar Creek in 1983, when he toured with Asia and I honestly can’t remember much about the show. I was a fan of Asia due to several videos on MTV, but I was really at the show for the opening act, Chris DeBurgh (“Don’t Pay the Ferryman”).

            Now that I think of him, I realize I have no Chris DeBurgh on my playlist. I only have him on vinyl, and I’ve only digitized one album, “The Getaway”. I think I’ll add the title song to Kaffred, now up to 124.

            My final drum break is another Keith Moon, “Amazing Journey”. I particularly like the Live at Leeds version, where the crispness of his playing is evident. Keith Moon always looked to me like someone using his sticks like magic wands; he didn’t seem to be holding them like anyone else.        

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

3 - No More Lonely NIghts - Paul McCartney – 1984

              No More Lonely Nights -Video


This song, from a failed McCartney-written film, “Give My Regards to Broad Street”, came out in 1984, when I was running the third shift at Accutronics, in Cary, Illinois. I remember it echoing throughout the punch press department, housed in a large room, connected to, yet separated by a wall from the rest of the plant.

            On this shift, I directly supervised about 36 people, walking around the 60,000+ sq.ft. facility, all night long, making sure everyone was busy and not hiding.

            And did they have places to hide! The maintenance shop, down a short flight of stairs, had, under the stairs, a bed made of packaging foam and a speaker hooked up to the PA system, which was tuned to an FM station playing lite rock. When someone came clomping down the wooden stairs you had ample time to get up and pretend you were working on something.  (I never slept there, but there were a few nights when I became sick, and I laid down on the nurse’s daybed.  Being the only supervisor, I couldn’t leave in the middle of the shift, since I had no backup)

In the various departments, operators had radios tuned to more raucous stations, such as the Punch Press and Screening departments, who blared a top 40 rock station, with a tight playlist that repeated every 3 hours or so, so you heard the top hits 2-3 times a night. I got to hate some songs ("Ghostbusters"!) and liking others (this one).

I had returned to Accu in 1983, for what became my last tour of duty, after a failed attempt at law school. I had gone to law school for one semester, but had bombed out and came home to live with my folks, sleeping for the next year on a convertible sofa bed (my bedroom had been converted into the TV room on my leaving for college).

Prior to my graduation from Blackburn College in 1977, I had entertained the thought of attending law school, so I could become one of Nader’s Raiders. Though my grades were OK (3.5 GPA), I did not do well on the LSAT, so I could not get in anywhere I applied. I had resigned myself to returning to Accutronics, until a letter came to Dr. M.G.R. Kelley, my favorite teacher/advisor, asking for the names of promising students of History for Graduate Assistantships. However, Dr. Kelley was under the impression I was only a junior (when, in fact, I was a senior) and did not respond to the Western Illinois University letter. When I found out, I explained to Dr. K that I was a transfer student from Elgin Community College and a senior, so he apologized and wrote to WIU with a glowing letter of recommendation and I was offered a Graduate Assistantship in History.

I then had to make a decision, go back to Accu to work, or go to WIU and continue to live the student life.  It was an easy decision since the assistantship paid all tuition and fees, plus paid the grand sum of $210 a month, for 15 hours of work a week. I lived in Graduate/Married Student housing for $130/month, so I had $80 a month for food and all other expenses. I learned to love Rice-a-Roni, Kroger mac and cheese, and Spam. I had a married student neighbor who was a hunter, and he gave me rabbit several times (tastes like chicken, especially when I used Shake and Bake). I finished the coursework for the MA in a year and a half, the thesis took a little longer, but I had the MA by early 1979.

Several years later in 1982, I retook the LSAT and, with no special preparation, improved my score by 100 points.  Along with my 3.9 GPA at WIU, I applied to Southern Illinois University Law School, and was accepted. I left Accu in August 1982 and went down to Carbondale and read, seemingly from 8 AM to midnight, every day. Now I love reading, but this was all law, and I found very quickly that I had no aptitude for legal thinking or legal writing, though I had written a Master’s Thesis of over 100 pages with relative ease.

Law school does not bring many memories of music; I can only remember Bruce Springsteen’s “Nebraska” and a guy down the hall who was into the B-52s (“Rock Lobster”).  I went to movies in town and after seeing “The Wall”, I became a fan of Pink Floyd (in that incarnation, not anything before “Dark Side of the Moon”). I also remember seeing “The Road Warrior” and “Creepshow” in Carbondale.

Anyway, after one semester, my grades on the final exam (and the final was the first and only exam in almost every class) were abysmal. I decided to go home, so I loaded up my 1979 Mustang to the brim, and drove home. I didn’t call Accu right away, I spent 6 months, sending out 125 resumes, trying to find a position in research, editing or writing. I got 3 interviews, 8 letters of rejection, and no other response. Still not wanting to return to Accu with my tail between my legs, I applied for, interviewed for, and was offered a job with a “state-of-the art” board shop in southern Indiana. I loaded up my Mustang again and drove down to a Vincennes motel to begin my new life in Indiana.

I went into the shop on a Monday morning and saw that there was no one in the front office, there were at least 10 empty offices. I asked the receptionist (who doubled as the HR person as well) where the Production manager, my new boss, was. She said he came in late on Mondays. It turned out he lived in Chicago (a five hour drive away) and came down on Monday, worked Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, then left at noon on Friday. I was told to fend for myself until he came in.

This was not even the shop I was going to run. I was going to run a shop in Princeton, Indiana, about an hour south/east. As I walked around the Vincennes plant, I felt I had entered a time warp of sorts. I had gone back in time to when I had started at Accutronics, in 1974, when there was no OSHA, no EPA. The punch press operators here had no hearing protection (something I did not have in 1974, causing the tinitus and hearing loss I have today), or pullbacks, the cords that attached to your wrists and kept your hands out of the die.

The plant was filled with the acrid smells of soldering and chemicals used to clean boards. My eyes were watering and my throat was sore after a couple hours.

I asked a girl running the solder operation, “What’s the other shop like?”

“Oh,” she smiled,  “ A lot like this one…. only dirtier.”

Luckily, I had not unloaded my car, I left a note for the Production manager (“When I was told this was a state-of-the art facility I didn’t know the owner meant state-of-the art 1960”) and drove back home and the next morning called my old boss at Accu, said I’d never complain again, and asked for a job. Of course he hired me back and I went back the next day, working first on setting up a Nickel/Gold plating line, then about 6 months later, I was put in charge of the third shift and those 36 people.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

2 of 123. If I Had a Boat - Lyle Lovett


2. If I Had a Boat – Lyle Lovett -  (from Live in Texas, 1999)

If I Had a Boat - Soundstage 

In 2003, I won two tickets from Steve Dahl’s show to attend the taping at the WTTW studios of a Soundstage with Lyle Lovett, and his guest, Randy Newman. As a huge Randy Newman fan since the early 70s (more on this in future postings), I was psyched to see him more than Lyle Lovett, who I had heard on WXRT (“Chicago’s Finest Rock”), but had never become enough of a fan to purchase a record (record?), I mean CD.

It took over four hours to tape what eventually became an 81-minute show. Mr. Lovett started the show with 4-5 songs, then they stopped and said they were going to start all over again, so clap like you’re seeing him for the first time, which we did.

It was a great show and his backup band/vocalists were superb. I ordered the Live in Texas CD the next week. I especially liked “If I Had a Boat”, which is the one I added to my playlist after burning the CD to my Zune.

Randy Newman sang “Political Science (Let’s Drop the Big One)” the song that got me into his music in 1972, after I saw it performed by David Steinberg during his comedy show at the Mill Run Theater (now long gone) in Niles, Illinois. I went out after that show and bought “Sail Away”, “12 Songs”, and “Newman Live”. Albums were 3 for $10 at Skipper’s back then.

At the Soundstage taping he also did “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” and “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” with Lyle Lovett.

Before the taping we saw Steve Dahl, who was also one of the producers of Soundstage at the time, standing in the hallway of WTTW as we went in to the auditorium. I wanted to say something to him like “Thanks for the ducats”, but I wimped out. I have a hard time speaking to my heroes. I once did the same thing at a dinner I attended for Harlan Ellison in the 90s.

Lynn and I had actually met Steve 9 years earlier in 1994 when I won tickets from the Dahl show to the Kane County Cougars, the local Class A baseball team. This was when Steve was on WLUP AM1000 with Bruce Wolf, after his acrimonious breakup with Garry Meier. The tickets also included a ride from the studios at the John Hancock to the game with Baderbrau beer served on board.

Then, as now, we lived in Elgin, and were much closer to the Cougars’ field in Geneva, but we wanted to ride the bus and meet Steve, so we drove to Geneva and took the Metra train in to Union Station, then took a cab up to the John Hancock where we got on the bus with other winners. However, there was no Stever or Bruce or Lane Closure (Leslie Keiling, their traffic reporter) on board. Bruce wasn’t coming and the bus would pick up Steve and Lane on the way, in Hillside. In the meantime, we drank Baderbrau and settled in for the ride.

In Hillside, Steve and Lane climbed on board and I handed Steve his first of several beers (he stopped drinking the next year) and we rode to the game. Along the way, Steve asked us what he should say to Garry Meier the next day. After the breakup with Garry, Garry was given a show of his own on middays at WLUP FM, Steve was put with Bruce Wolf on the AM, doing sports talk. However, after a year or so, Garry’s ratings were low and the next day was to be his last. Steve was planning on going in during the broadcast to wish him well. If you listen to the clip from that show, awkward does not begin to cover it.

Anyway, when we got to the park, we were set up over the right field wall, where there was a deck with a hot tub and tables and chairs. We watched the game at Steve’s table, downing several more beers and a couple spectacular Pork loin sandwiches and I think at some point I finally exchanged some small talk (I’d been listening since just before Disco Demolition in 1979, so I was familiar with his oeuvre) and we took a great photo with him just before we left to take a cab to our car at the Geneva train station.

That reminds me, I used to have the whole Sox broadcast of the Disco Demolition Debacle on videotape, but I taped over it back in the early 80s. When I bought my first VCR, a Magnavox in 1978, I not only had to finance the purchase of the machine, $800, but also the blank tapes as well. When they first came onto the market, from the late 70s to the mid-80s, blank tapes were $25 EACH. Every few months, in the early 80s, a catalog store in Mount Prospect, whose name escapes me, would have a sale of 5 tapes for $100, a steal! I remember my first movie rental as well, from a Fotomat (“what’s a Fotomat, dad?”), it was “Harold and Maude”, and it cost $12 for 5 days. To purchase one movie, it was $40 to $70. Ahhh.. good times.

When I bought my first VCR I also bought 12 blank tapes, for $300. And since you could only get 4 hours on a blank VHS, I taped over most of my original tapes at some point. I had some cool (to me anyway, I was sort of the anti-cool, then as now) shows, besides Disco Demo, that I wish I’d kept. Soupy Sales had a show that WGN ran in the middle of the night and that Model T VCR had a timer to turn it on and off, you manually changed the channel. Also, I had the whole run of “I, Claudius”.

Oh well, I still have a copy of the “Bleacher Bums” with Joe Mantegna and Dennis Franz, “Disco Beaver From Outer Space” from HBO, when the National Lampoon was attempting to cash in on “Animal House” fever, and “Ripping Yarns” the Michael Palin series from the late 70s.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

    Now....number 1 on my Hot 123, Kaffred's Zune on shuffle, I give you


  1. MMMM…MMMM…MMMM – Crash Test Dummies – 1993

    MMMM...MMMM...MMMM-video
Takes me back to 1993, and I was commuting about 50 miles round trip, working at Dynacircuits, a “punch and crunch” board shop in Franklin Park. The “punch and crunch” have all but disappeared in the U.S. (gone to China and India, for the most part). The simple, single-sided boards were punched with a die, as opposed to drilling holes and routing the outline with an NC-controlled driller/router. Mainly these were used in automotive and consumer products. Dynacircuits was a Q1 supplier to Ford in those pre-ISO/QS 9000 days.

      I was one of three Quality Engineers working there at the time, the only company I’ve ever worked for in the Printed Circuit Board (PCB) industry with so much Quality and Engineering support staff. Most companies I’ve worked for have had a Quality manager and, if I was lucky, a Quality Engineer or Quality clerk to help maintain the Quality system. I’ve been the sole QA person at 5 of the 15 shops I’ve worked for. Quality has never been a priority, beyond trying to inspect quality into boards and fighting with customers when they try to reject boards for cosmetic reasons.

I had pursued a certification through the American Society for Quality as a Quality Engineer (CQE), passing a six-hour exam to get it, and when I went to my boss, the Quality Manager, to tell him, I got one of the blankest looks I’ve ever gotten. He had no idea what the CQE was, or what it indicated. To him, the Quality Manger’s job was to schmooze the customer into accepting borderline product, and smoothing ruffled feathers when the reject was a serious defect. He was great at it; we called him “Lar, the tap dancing Bear.” He was also great at lying to vendors to get them to pay us for what he claimed was defective laminate, paying two and three times for the same boards. (I finally told a laminate supplier to at least verify that the date codes were different when he signed off on the bad boards to make sure they weren’t the same boards each time)

Back in the 70’s, 80's, and 90’s we would jump on the next flight to a customer to sort boards ourselves, if need be, to support them and not shut down an assembly line. I have not visited more than 4-5 customers in the past 10 years. Now we just ship them back overnight and sort them and return them.

Our biggest customer at Chicago Etching Corporation (CEC), and, after the merger with Dynacircuits, there as well, was Chamberlain, the garage door opener company (Craftsman, Lift Master, Master Mechanic, etc) and at least once a year we would have a quality issue which would require me (as the Quality manager at Chicago Etch, as a Quality Engineer at Dynacircuits) to go to their plant in Nogales, Mexico. I would fly in the night before to Tucson, drive down to a resort just north of Nogales, Arizona, meet up with our sales rep, Gary Kelly, then after a good meal and a good night’s sleep, drive over the border the next morning to meet with Hector D., a former Chicago resident, who was the Quality manager at the maquiladora plant. He was a great guy. We would meet for a while to discuss the quality issue, and then go out for lunch at some local restaurant, and then we’d go back to the plant to sort boards for a few hours. After that Gary and I’d return to the resort for a nice dinner, then fly back home the next morning. Gary Kelly became a good friend from these visits and I later worked for him at night when he tried to set up his own board fabrication business a couple years later.

One memorable visit was due to the fact that the laminate we used as the base of the circuit board was paper based and the punching process usually left debris partially blocking the holes causing problems with component insertion. At CEC and Dyna we made fixtures for unplugging the holes by taking 14-15 boards and stacking them up, then placing straight pins in each of the 600+ holes. You would then place each board on the fixture and the pins would push the debris from the holes. However, it was not a foolproof method and occasionally several would get through to Chamberlain, causing me to have to fly down for a visit.

This particular time, they had over 30,000 boards at risk, so I took 6 pin fixtures in my briefcase to use to unplug them (if they would give me 6 people to help unplug them). At O'Hare they scanned my briefcase and were a little surprised to see thousands of straight pins on their screen. In those pre-9/11 (1994) days I escaped a cavity search, but I had to take out the fixtures and explain what I was going to use them for, which took awhile.

When I got to Chamberlain, Hector took me to a table in the plant and said, “Here you go!” I was not going to get any help from Chamberlain personnel. There was a skid with 30 boxes of boards that I had to open, unload and open shrink wrapped stacks of 25 boards, unplug them, then put them back into the boxes. At best, I could do about 800 an hour, which meant I would be there about a week. I spent about 4 hours unplugging, then drove back to my resort room and called back to Dyna, telling them that unless I found some help, I would be down there for at least a week.

Then I picked up a flyer in my room and saw “Little Pedro” in an ad for a company in Nogales that did assembly work. I called them and asked what they would charge for doing the 30,000 pieces. The guy who owned the company was originally from Motorola in Schaumburg, Illinois, and if I would hook him up with Gary Kelly (he was looking for representation in the Chicago area, I guess) he would do it for $500. Dyna had given me a blank check to cover this contingency so I hired him on the spot. And home I flew.

Dyna was the only place I’ve worked where I was able to commute with someone, an Engineer named Neubaum, who we called Neuberman, after the butchering of his name over the PA by the receptionist. He lived about a third of the way along my trip and I would pick him up and drop him off each day. When he was not in the car, I would listen to this song on tape, rewind, listen again, rewind, and listen again, until I finally memorized the lyrics. In the early AM my voice was a bass/baritone, like Brad Roberts, the lead singer of the Crash Test Dummies. Later in the day, not so good on the low notes, as Neuberman would remind me.

As I said, Dyna had a lot of Engineering and Quality support staff, and some of the best people I’ve worked with over the years: Oscar Salazar, Rich Mankiewicz, John Holmquest, Dick Golden, Raul Chaidez, and Carl Neubaum. Work was fun, as I look back on it now and compare it with subsequent workplaces. We had a lot of laughs, and got together socially as well, something that doesn’t happen much any more. Or maybe we all got older and had families and other commitments. It was also when office people still dressed for work, men in button down shirts, with a tie if a customer was visiting, no T-shirts. The women wore skirts and dresses, for the most part. Casual day had not yet become everyday as it is now.

The merger between Chicago Etch and Dynacircuits had started out with high hopes. Dyna even tried to foster a family feeling by taking the whole front office staff, and their significant others, probably 40 people or so, to Medieval Times for dinner one night. This was just before the company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, laid off a bunch of people, and screwed all their suppliers and sub-contractors. Gary Kelly, when all was said and done with the Chapter 11, got about 4 cents on the dollar for what he was owed in commissions (over $50,000).

I worked at Chicago Etch as the Quality Manager and we bought Dyna, yet I became a Quality Engineer at Dyna because they were Q1 and they wanted to keep tap-dancin Lar in place. Also, the previous owners of Dyna were slightly louche by the early 90’s. They had added on to the 50,000+ sq. ft. facility with new offices, and on the 2nd floor, a “health club”. It had keyless entry, an eight-person hot tub, sauna, steam room, weight room, and a “relaxation” room, plus a full kitchen and conference room. When CEC moved in, all that was cleared out to make room for accounting offices. The hot tub could not fit through the 18” wide windows, it had been dropped in before the roof was put on, so it was cut up with a chain saw and thrown out the second floor. The cedar wall paneling was left for the Controller’s new office.

When I first met one of my fellow QE’s, Rich Mankiewicz, he always seemed to have some outlandish story about the previous owners. At first I took him as a fabulist, until he proved the most outlandish was true. He told stories of debauchery in the “health club” that would curl your hair and one day he said that when a woman went to the bathroom up here, the two owners would race downstairs, to a spot under the restroom (which was their private garage for a car collection) and watch for them to flush and see what went by. “How would they know?” I asked. “There’s a clear section of PVC pipe there!” he replied. “You’re full of s—t!” “Come with me”. And he showed me the pipe, because by then that former garage was used to store all the punch press dies that CEC had used.

I never doubted Rich again.
MMMM….MMMM…MMMM, indeed.