Here at Campbell Castle (West), we like our pets. So, let me introduce you to our “Big Guy”, my “grand-dog”, Baron. Baron has lots of titles; Baron Von CouchPotato, Baron Von LazyBones, and Baron Von ChowHound to name just a few.
Baron is a good dog, not the sharpest crayon in the box, but he doesn’t seem to care. He loves his girls, and is rather protective of them.
We rescued Baron just about a year ago. When we brought him to the first vet visit, he weighed about 75 pounds (32 Kg for you metric folk). Then just 7 months or so later he developed “Idiopathic Head Tremors”. This is a very scary looking event where the dog’s head and neck shakes like it’s having a seizure. It could be an epileptic seizure, but usually isn’t. I was lucky enough to catch one on video and we took him back to the vet.
In my opinion the vet tried to oversell us. She wanted to put Baron on several meds and send him for neurological exams. I didn’t agree with this plan at all. One thing we did find out was that Baron Von ChowHound seemed to be Baron’s usual mode. He was over 100 pounds! 101 to be a bit more precise. Needless to say, a new diet plan was instituted.
After a month of easing his portion size and slowly introducing a low calorie dog food, we had to switch the brand of food. The vet had suggested a prescription weight loss food. Baron didn’t like it much, and was eating way too little. And crying. The boy is very vocal. Not so much barking, but whines and cries like no other dog I have ever heard.
Yesterday we took him for his yearly exam and he has lost 11 pounds. This is only over a 3 month period too! He seems to be doing much better on this new food, but still is always begging for more. But once we get him back closer to the 75 – 80 pound range, then he should be able to get a slightly bigger portion of food.
Baron is a very good looking, though somewhat smaller version of Scooby Doo. He has a lot of personality, and is a big bully. His head is as big as a bowling ball, and he uses it to push his way into everything. We had to buy a garbage can with a locking lid to keep him out of the trash.
As I mentioned at the top, Baron is my “Grand-Dog”. Everything is registered under son-the-younger. He lives here with us and loves to dig up my yard!
And since we have switched him from the Purina food we have not seen any more tremors. We even did the “Doggie DNA” test. We did this mainly since he was a rescue, we had no idea his mix of breeds, and we wanted to be prepared for any possible future medical issues we might encounter. Such as – Idiopathic Head Tremors are very common in bulldogs, and Baron has a high percentage of Bulldog DNA.
We have a fire station less than a mile from the house. Seems the sirens are.. well, you decide.
The year, we’re not all that sure. It would have to be between 1990 – 1992. I remember that it was my second tour at Ft. Bragg, but that’s as close as any of us can remember.
The cast would be me, Wifey, and our friend Lloyd Brown, and an unknown guitar player. Let me give you some history on Lloyd.
I first met Lloyd around 1987. We were both stationed at Ft. Greely Alaska. Let me clarify that statement. Lloyd and I were both stationed at Ft. Greely, but not in the same unit. So, until that fateful day we met, we had never even seen each other. Why do I say that? Because we met when he was hugging Wifey!
We were coming out of the PX (for you non-military folks, a PX is the department store on the base. Much like a Wal-Mart now, but then much smaller), with my hands full and our very young son-the-younger in a back back when I notice that Wifey and son-the-elder are not with me. I turn around and there she is hugging the neck of some guy who I had no idea who he was! I was not happy at all.
But rest assured, it was not an issue. Turns out that Lloyd and Wifey grew up together. Lloyd was a good friend of one of Wifey’s brothers. The phrase “it’s a small world” really rings true in the military. I have been stationed with folks that went to the same high school I did (and Wifey too), or that grew up just blocks from either of us.
Now you have the backstory, lets get on with the “rest of the story” (RIP Paul Harvey).
Lloyd and I both enjoy Jimmy Buffett‘s music. We both play guitar and both sing. Over the years since our chance meeting Alaska, Lloyd has rented spare bedrooms in our house several times. We were caretakers of his dog and cat during deployments, and he helped with maintenance and such when I was deployed.
One evening we all went out to dinner together. At that time there weren’t too many places we enjoyed going to eat. Lloyd is, shall we say, a picky eater. Burgers with bacon and lettuce, and fries were his go to meal outside of the house. And a PB&J when home!
Sadly, we can’t remember the name of the restaurant in which this story takes place. I assure you there is story in here. Just keep reading. I recall it was Phat Daddy’s, which was up near the mall. Lloyd thinks we we’re down closer to Raeford Road, which is no where near the mall.
Well, wherever it was were were eating that night, there was a guy with a guitar playing and singing. I don’t remember much about this guy other than he sucked. Lloyd and I just sat back and laughed at the guy and talked about what mistakes he was making. Wrong lyrics, missed chord changes, you name it, this guy screwed it up.
We didn’t care too much, it was more fun laughing at him, until he (tried to) played “Margaritaville“. We all cringed when this happened, even wifey and son-the-elder. Luckily the “musician” went on and butchered some other songs. And we went back to drinking and laughing at him. But only for a short while, then he completely destroyed “A Pirate Looks At 40″. We couldn’t handle this. Something had to be done. Think of the children! So we came up with a plan.
Together Lloyd and I walked up to that stage and offer the guy $20.. to never play any Jimmy Buffett song again! The guys face took on a bit of a shocked look (understandably). “You guy must not like Buffett” he tells us. “No,” we reply, “we love Buffett, that’s why we don’t want you to play anymore of his songs”.
He didn’t play any more Buffett songs that night. But I guess he continued to ruin songs after that. Hopefully someone either gave him some good music lessons, or good advice – to not quit his day job!
Lloyd now runs the Wildlife Rescue of Dade County. They do amazing work helping injured wildlife get healthy and released back into the wild when they can. Check them out.
Here’s ” A Pirate Looks At 40″ from Jimmy’s live album “You Had To Be There“, and I was there. Part of the album was recorded at the Gusman Center, Miami, FL in August 1978, and I was there and Jimmy had his leg in a cast! Enjoy!
Yes! This is a wifey post! Well, she’s not really doing the post, but she did give me the song. And that counts. So there!
From the Wiki page:
The song is about two boys (“Me and Julio”) who have broken a law, although the exact law that has been broken is not stated in the song. When “the mama pajama” finds out what they have done, she goes to the police station to report the crime. The individuals are later arrested, but released when a “radical priest” intervenes.
The meaning and references in the song have long provoked debate. In a July 20, 1972 interview for Rolling Stone, Jon Landau asked Simon: “What is it that the mama saw? The whole world wants to know.” Simon replied “I have no idea what it is… Something sexual is what I imagine, but when I say ‘something’, I never bothered to figure out what it was. Didn’t make any difference to me.”
More recently, in October 2010, Simon described the song as “a bit of inscrutable doggerel“, while the “radical priest” has been interpreted as a reference to Daniel Berrigan, who was featured on the cover of Time on January 25, 1971, near when the song was written.
The song is from Paul Simon’s 1972 self-titled studio album. Which had another of my favorite Paul Simon tracks, Mother And Child Reunion. Wifey says the lines; “And it’s against the law, it was against the law What mama saw, it was against the law“, are what’s stuck in her mind.
I’ve always thought it was a political act that got those two in trouble, hence the line about being released by a radical priest. Wifey says “It’s drugs. Pure and simple.” But as the quote above from Paul says, even he doesn’t know. It doesn’t take a complete story to make a good song. Just a great concept and you’re off to the bank! The song topped out at #7.
Personally, I just love the rhythms throughout the song. Enjoy!
First: I absolutely love this song. Second: These guys had so many other cool songs it sad this is the only one that really received any air play. It did make it #10 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 and #8 on Cashbox.
I’m talking about Brewer & Shipley. You were expecting another Beatles song, right? Sorry, not today. Although Here Come The Sun is currently playing. But that’ll be another post, another day. George deserves his own day to shine.
Other than this track Brewer & Shipley had two other singles chart;
Brewer & Shipley are an Americanfolk rock duo who enjoyed their peak success in the late 1960s through the 1970s, consisting of singer-songwritersMike Brewer (born in 1944) and Tom Shipley (born in 1941). They were known for their intricate guitar work, vocal harmonies, and socially conscious lyrics which reflected the concerns of their generation — especially the Vietnam War, and the struggles for personal and political freedom. Their greatest commercial success was the song “One Toke Over the Line” from their 1970 album Tarkio. They had two other singles on the Billboard charts: “Tarkio Road” (1970) and “Shake Off The Demon” (1971). They continue to perform, both separately and together, usually in the Midwest of the USA.
Tarkio Road is another great track, but again, that’s not what I’m here to tell you about (you were waiting for that line, right?)
Funny story about this song, although I have to admit that I can’t remember where I heard or read this story. But some unknown guy used to drive his grandmother around town, and she loved this song. She would sing right along with the song every time it came on. She just loved that it mentioned Jesus, so she thought it was a religious song. It broke his heart to tell her what the song was really about.
Mike Brewer gives this account of the origin of the song, “One day we were pretty much stoned and all and Tom says, “Man, I’m one toke over the line tonight.” I liked the way that sounded and so I wrote a song around it.”
The song gained popular acclaim while the band was touring as an opening act for Melanie, after they received an encore but had run out of other songs to play. Spiro Agnew said the song with its reference to marijuana use was “blatant drug-culture propaganda” that “threatens to sap our national strength,” pressuring the FCC to include the song on its list of music banned from the airwaves because of drug references.
OK. It’s not quite that classic Beatles song. But! You have the correct band.
On 12 October 1969 the Rock and Roll world went crazy. Why? Because Paul was dead. Yes, it all began at a Detroit radio station WKNR and DJ Russ Gibb. All it took was a phone call from a listener.
Fifty years ago, a Detroit DJ accidentally started the biggest hoax in rock & roll history: the “Paul is dead” craze. It blew up on October 12, 1969, when Russ Gibb was hosting his show on WKNR. A mysterious caller told him to put on the Beatles’ White Album and spin the “number nine, number nine” intro from “Revolution 9” backwards. When Gibb tried it on the air, he heard the words, “Turn me on, dead man.” The clues kept coming. At the end of “Strawberry Fields Forever,” John says, “I buried Paul.” What could it all mean?
The link above has the story, I’m just going to post the videos that go along with it. But I would suggest going to the original article so you can listen to the audio as the story progresses. I won’t just copy and paste the entire article here. That little thing called plagiarism you know.
I can remember my sister showing me all the hints on the Beatles albums. They were some very serious discussions we had. Many theories were discussed. Then I had to pass them on to all my friends. And still do today! This may have been the beginning of my intense study of music and musicians. No, lets not call it study, but obsession is too heavy. Maybe immersion. Yeah, that’s the ticket!
It was a lot of fun looking at the album covers and talking about them. A rough estimate is 4 stylists or needles on my turntables that I destroyed listening to backwards music.
So, today while making lunch for the crew today, I saw this on the bag of fries;
You don’t normally see a temp of 420. 425, 450, or 350 are the usual settings. So I asked Wifey, how do you think they came up with 420? Was it years of testing? Trying all the variables of times and temps? I would love to have seen the lab records…
“Tried half a bag @350 for 1 hour. Still soggy, inedible. Gave to the dog. He wouldn’t eat them either.”
“Tried half a bag @475 for 1 hour. Had to call the fire department. Dog howled at the sirens.”
“Tried half a bag @475 for 30 minutes. Dog chipped a tooth on them.”
“Tried half a bag @350 for 90 minutes. Same as last attempt. Dog afraid to try them.”
“Gave up and ate them frozen. Dog is very pissed.”
But what I think really happened was like this.
Tech 1: “Let’s try half a bag @420.”
Tech 2: “420? Who the fuck cooks at 420?”
Tech 1: “It’s 420. Get it?”
Tech 2: “Huh??”
Tech 1: “420 – you know.. As in.. (points at baggy in lab coat pocket).”
Tech 2: “Ah… Yes, they’ll eat anything after that shit!”
OK, maybe not. But it could have happened at my house!
It’s like the story that sharks don’t eat people because they don’t like the way we taste. Now who the hell did that taste test? I say it went like this;
Scene: Two labs techs stand by a large pool with a great white shark swimming in it.
Tech1: Throws in a chicken and watches while the shark eats the chicken.
Tech 2: Writes on clipboard; “Shark likes chicken”
Tech 1: Throws a pig into the pool, watches while shark eats the pig.
Tech 2: Writes on clipboard; “Shark likes pig”
Tech 1: Pushes a cow into the pool. Shark eats the cow.
Tech 2: Writes on clipboard; “Shark likes cow”
Tech 1: Thinks for a moment, pushes tech 2 into the pool. The shark bites Tech 2, but doesn’t eat him/her.
Tech 1: Writes on clipboard; “Shark doesn’t like humans”
Actually, the shark was full, and was hoping for some ice cream.
No? Then let me tell you a true story. Yes, really. This is true.
When we lived in Alaska our neighbors called us the “ethnic family”. Not that we were “ethnic” (whatever that means). After all we are your basic WASP. They were referring to our eating habits. If you follow me on Twitter or better yet, Instagram (links at the bottom of the post) you know we eat from just about every “ethnic” group out there.
One guy in particular, “Long John” asked almost every night; “What are you making tonight?”
“Don’t you guys eat normal food”? He would ask…
Now, to be honest, those pictures are not from when we were in Alaska. They are much more current, but that’s what we ate then and now. We have stepped up the game since then tho..
And seafood, of course. This is #Floriduh after all.
And I haven’t even started on the grilled and/or smoked stuff!
I had a really cool idea for a post, even had Wifey on board to help me, just to find out my entire premise was wrong… So what’s a ramblin’ blog writer to do?
Well, I guess I could write about genealogy. How I had a cousin (not on the Campbell side, of course) that I had not heard from in many years contact me. Now she did send me the message on a website I very seldom use back in August and I just saw it yesterday. But we’ve had a good conversation via email since then.
I could post about the ongoing home repairs, but all we’ve really done since the last post is hang a few pictures. I did finish painting one set of closet doors. But that’s it. It was while we were going through the many boxes of photos we have to see if we want to put new pictures on the wall that made me go to the genealogy site where I found that message board post. Funny how things tie together like that.
Also there was the little fair we went to Friday night. We all took the girls to see the newest Aladdin movie “under the stars”. I didn’t stay long as my back and legs were acting up in a very bad way. Plus even though there were two beer tents they weren’t selling any beer that night. What a waste.
Maybe I could use how our contracted garbage company (contracted by the county, not us personally), won’t pick up some wood that’s in a garbage can. I realize that when they came by for their usual pick up they thought that it was construction waste. It does look like that. This is wood from some old chairs that son-the-younger broke apart so we could stash them away when the last hurricane was headed our way. But when I called and explained what it was, I was told I had to take it out of the can and “bundle” it. WTF?? They won’t take loose pieces. This is the same company that doesn’t have a claw truck to pick up tree branches and such. We live in a very hurricane prone state, and trees not only get blown down in these storms, folks have to cut them back on a regular basis for safety.
I guess I don’t really have anything to post about after all. So here’s a video. Enjoy!
A little background before I get into the meat of this post. The last 12 years or so of my military career, were the married years. I was single for the first 8, then Wifey came along for the ride.
During those 12 years, we averaged a mere 22 months between moves. Yup, we moved. A lot. And now that I’m retired, we’ve been in this house for just over 22 years. During the active duty years we did quite a bit of living out of boxes. Somethings just never got completely unpacked. One example is my record albums. It was easier to just take them out of the box to play them, then put them right back in the box when done. Then the movers just put a new sticker on the box (not always covering up the previous stickers), taped the box up and off the boxes would go to wherever the hell we were going next. Even today, those albums are still in the same boxes with the same stickers.
But after 22 years those are the only boxes we still have. Well at least the only old boxes. Now we have 22 years of accumulation of pure junk. The garage is full of stuff.
One of the things that this constant moving ingrained in our heads was a lack of understanding of house maintenance. We were never in one place long enough to worry about replacing a roof, or an air conditioning system (both of which we’ve had to do lately). We have replaced the carpet with wood floor inside and painted the inside of the house, but we never did anything to the exterior. So I present these before and after photos and notes taking full responsibility for the 20 years of neglect. Don’t @ me, my brother will take care of that for you. And he’ll be channeling our dad when he does!
I’m sure you remember the tale of the leak that never ended. The wall is finally patched all damage to the cabinets repaired, and the dishwasher is back in place and secured.
Under the sink was badly damaged by the two leaks, but we didn’t know that until we tried to fix the second leak. That’s when the floor and side came apart.
This was the only piece of dry rot. Not bad for 20+ years of neglect. Painting will commence soon.
The laundry room was in really bad shape. Not so much anymore. The pressure washing took even more of the lower siding off after this picture was taken.
We still have much to do. The kitchen floor needs to be done, but we should still have enough tile for that, some finishing on the floor work (quarter round and such). I’ve started the painting of the closet doors, but the white is not covering the old dark green very well.
Needless to say, I didn’t do this myself. I had help. Well, actually I was the “help”. We have a contractor that we’ve used for several jobs. He’s not the lowest priced guy around, but he does quality work. I have no problem paying for quality. All I really did was pay for everything, and do the simple spray painting. Which was still physically demanding for me. I can’t stand for all that long so it was paint a door, go sit down. Paint something else, go sit down. Take some Tylenol. Drink lots of water (no beer until the work day was done).
So that was the beginning of my week. What did you do for fun?
I really don’t want to post this song, but it’s been stuck in my head now for 2 days. The title is misleading, as is the chorus, which is why I am reluctant to post.
But the verses are very positive. Of course, nobody knows the verses, just the chorus. It the way of pop music since, well, since there was pop music. It’s called “the hook”. It draws the listener in and keeps them there (hopefully).
But take the chorus on it’s own and it sounds like a lament;
I’ve had enough bad love I need something I can be proud of I’ve had enough bad love No more bad love
Bad Love ~ Eric Clapton
Geez – how depressing! Good thing the verses tell the true story.
The recording is very star studded. From the Wiki page;
“Bad Love” is a rock song recorded by the British rock musician Eric Clapton, who co-wrote it with Foreigner‘s lead guitarist Mick Jones. The track was released as the third single from Eric Clapton’s 1989 studio albumJourneyman on March 10, 1990 for Reprise Records a sublabel of the Warner Music Group company. The rock composition also features rock music drummer Phil Collins, who plays drums and sings harmony background vocals on the recording, which was produced by, then, Clapton’s long-time partner Russ Titelman. At the 33rd Annual Grammy Awards, Clapton won an award for Best Rock Vocal Performance, Male. The single release reached various international single music charts and sold a total of 250,000 copies worldwide. A music video was released in 1989 to accompany the single release.
So I guess it’s not a bad song to have stuck after all. As long as I can get the hook out of my head and replace it with the much more joyful verses. Enjoy!
Love the cigarette in the head stock. Dave Mason did it, and even I did it once. Somewhere is a picture of me playing my brother’s Fender 12-string acoustic with a cigarette I stole from my dad stuck in the head stock.