{"id":2413,"date":"2009-11-21T16:33:20","date_gmt":"2009-11-22T00:33:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/?p=2413"},"modified":"2009-11-21T16:33:20","modified_gmt":"2009-11-22T00:33:20","slug":"riding-on-a-railroad","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/2009\/11\/21\/riding-on-a-railroad\/","title":{"rendered":"Riding On A Railroad"},"content":{"rendered":"

THE GRAND CANYON<\/span><\/p>\n

We were only on the South Rim for three hours.\u00c2\u00a0 Deploying at the Bright Angel Lodge.<\/p>\n

I hadn’t been there since 1966.\u00c2\u00a0 Needless to say, the Grand Canyon hadn’t changed.\u00c2\u00a0 It’s vast!\u00c2\u00a0 Far larger than you can imagine, almost too big to comprehend.\u00c2\u00a0 A huge hole with giant mountains resembling tits cropping up amidst the vast valleys.<\/p>\n

After taking a gander, we boarded the bus to Hermits Rest, seven and a half miles away.\u00c2\u00a0 Our plan was to take it to the limit, then stop at one of the viewpoints on the return and walk back.\u00c2\u00a0 I figured we’d have enough time to double back from Maricopa Point, not quite two miles from our starting point.\u00c2\u00a0 But nervous about being late, hanging up our compatriots, at the last minute we altered the plan.\u00c2\u00a0 We’d disembark at Mojave Point and walk the mile or so through Hopi Point on to Powell Point, where the bus stopped on its reverse run (it stopped at all eight intermediate points on the way out, but only three on the way back.)<\/p>\n

And at Mojave Point, the views were delicious.\u00c2\u00a0 We could see the Colorado River far below.\u00c2\u00a0 The sheer walls nearby were emblazoned red.\u00c2\u00a0 One could get up on the railing and look straight down.\u00c2\u00a0 And that’s what it is, straight down.\u00c2\u00a0 A cliff.\u00c2\u00a0 This ain’t no ski slope, the sides of the Grand Canyon are vertical.<\/p>\n

Having taken a gander, it was time to hit the trail.\u00c2\u00a0 Which I’d seen pictures of back at Bright Angel Lodge.\u00c2\u00a0 Paved, but in some spots gravel.<\/p>\n

They lied.<\/p>\n

The path this far out was dirt.\u00c2\u00a0 With occasional\u00c2\u00a0 markers on either side.\u00c2\u00a0 Sometimes logs, sometimes rocks.\u00c2\u00a0 And then, just feet away, was the abyss.<\/p>\n

Or, as the Firesign Theatre used to say, I was walking mere feet from the Grand CanYONNNNNNNNNNNE!<\/p>\n

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be in America.\u00c2\u00a0 The land of seatbelts and airbags, where we release our children into society in bubble wrap, worried they might get bruised by the slightest of contact.\u00c2\u00a0 America is safe, we’re protected!\u00c2\u00a0 But now I’m walking on this sometimes angled, uneven path, knowing that a trip and a slight slip and I’m a goner.<\/p>\n

You tell yourself to go.\u00c2\u00a0 Not to be a pussy.\u00c2\u00a0 But once you’ve embarked, you can’t go back, it’s too scary.\u00c2\u00a0 You can kick and scream, but there’s no one to rescue you.\u00c2\u00a0 Certainly not in the slow season of November.<\/p>\n

So, you can focus on the trail, avoid looking over your shoulder, or just jump.<\/p>\n

Yup, you almost want to get it over with.<\/p>\n

But truly.\u00c2\u00a0 You don’t want to hike and not look.\u00c2\u00a0 But you suddenly realize you can die.\u00c2\u00a0 And did you really want to go this way?<\/p>\n

RIDING ON A RAILROAD<\/span><\/p>\n

"You learn a lot on a train."<\/p>\n

That’s what Charlie Hunter, leader of this adventure, told us in the parlor car not long after we left Union Station Saturday night.<\/p>\n

This was his twentieth trip.\u00c2\u00a0 The first was a lark, a writing group jaunt.\u00c2\u00a0 From Northampton to Buffalo and back, just that fast. Then, they went to New Orleans.\u00c2\u00a0 Then they circumnavigated the country.\u00c2\u00a0 Signing up people through "Harper’s". Shenanigans ensued, marriages broke up.\u00c2\u00a0 Because in close quarters, you can’t hide behind your possessions, your true identity is revealed.<\/p>\n

This was a four and a half day adventure.\u00c2\u00a0 From L.A. to Albuquerque and places in between.\u00c2\u00a0 The trip knit together by music.\u00c2\u00a0 In this case, Stan Ridgway, Jill Sobule and the Handsome Family.\u00c2\u00a0 Thirty eight people had signed up to be packed like sardines just to be close to the music.<\/p>\n

HIGH ON A MOUNTAIN<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, that Stan Ridgway, from Wall of Voodoo, of "Mexican Radio" fame.\u00c2\u00a0 Then again, is there another Stan Ridgway?<\/p>\n

Charlie’s a fan.\u00c2\u00a0 He likes artists who employ unreliable narrators.\u00c2\u00a0 Sing songs from perspectives other than their own.\u00c2\u00a0 As rapists, as less than stellar citizens.<\/p>\n

I don’t think Stan’s ever raped anyone.\u00c2\u00a0 And unlike the artists in the news, he is both voluble and approachable.\u00c2\u00a0 Actually, Stan is a storytelling softie.\u00c2\u00a0 He keeps up a running narrative, oftentimes made up on the spot, of what he’s experiencing at the moment.\u00c2\u00a0 He’s ripe for a documentary.\u00c2\u00a0 He made up a seven minute song entitled "Booze Hole" which was more riveting than anything in the Top Forty.\u00c2\u00a0 But I became truly enraptured when he, his wife Pietra and their accompanying guitarist launched into "High On A Mountain".<\/p>\n

High on a mountain, wind blowing free<\/span>
Thinking of the days that used to be<\/span><\/p>\n

We’re riding through the Mojave Desert.\u00c2\u00a0 It’s pitch black outside.\u00c2\u00a0 And this number is loping along, perfectly fitting the experience.\u00c2\u00a0 There was something about the changes.<\/p>\n

And when they were done, Stan went on about them, deconstructing the song, delineating its magic.<\/p>\n

He couldn’t exactly remember who wrote it.\u00c2\u00a0 "Ole"?<\/p>\n

That’s what I thought he said, but searching in Spotify as soon as I got home, I found out it was written by Ola Belle Reed. It’s on an album entitled "Classic Mountain Songs from Smithsonian Folkways".\u00c2\u00a0 And the original, recorded so long ago, is just as magical as Stan and Pietra’s remake, cut for the children’s album "Silly Songs For Kids Volume One".

High on a mountain, standing all alone<\/span>
Wondering where the years of my life have flown<\/span><\/p>\n

Where did they go?\u00c2\u00a0 Ever find yourself alone and it hits you?\u00c2\u00a0 How did you get here?\u00c2\u00a0 Where have you been?\u00c2\u00a0 Where are you going?\u00c2\u00a0 It almost spooks you, you want to put one foot in front of the other, get into motion just to avoid being creeped out.<\/p>\n

Great songs don’t have to be complicated.\u00c2\u00a0 Great songs encapsulate life better than any movie or TV show.<\/p>\n


ALBUQUERQUE<\/span><\/p>\n

It was cold!\u00c2\u00a0 Thirty three degrees during the day!<\/p>\n

After waking up to snow in northern New Mexico, we ultimately arrived in Albuquerque at noon.\u00c2\u00a0 They shuffled the four cars of our entourage onto a siding and we disembarked to investigate a city that gets few tourists at this time of year.<\/p>\n

And it felt good to get off the train.\u00c2\u00a0 Yet bad.<\/p>\n

Nobody told me that running the rails was like being on a cruise ship.\u00c2\u00a0 I could barely stand up straight.\u00c2\u00a0 I was woozy the entire day.\u00c2\u00a0 I almost wanted to get back on, to hook up behind an engine, just to wallow and wail, shimmy and shake, the train calming me down like a mother rocking her baby.<\/p>\n

Then again, the sleeping quarters were surreal.\u00c2\u00a0 I kept bumping my head, and have the scars to show for it.\u00c2\u00a0 Finally, we developed a system.\u00c2\u00a0 One at a time.\u00c2\u00a0 Otherwise, it’s just too crowded.<\/p>\n

They’re seats during the day.\u00c2\u00a0 And at night, they’re bunk beds.\u00c2\u00a0 With no rubber buggy bumpers, since the car was commissioned in 1954, long before America became safety crazy.\u00c2\u00a0 But my bruises and bumps made me appreciate the regulations!<\/p>\n

The tiny toilet flushed.\u00c2\u00a0 And the sink came down from the wall like a Murphy bed.\u00c2\u00a0 And to empty it, you pushed it vertical once again.\u00c2\u00a0 It was all ingeniously designed.\u00c2\u00a0 Albeit for munchkins.\u00c2\u00a0 And trying to insert my contacts and brush my teeth as the train rolled down the tracks was quite a challenge.<\/p>\n

Anyway, after the sun set Sunday we went to Burt’s Tiki Lounge for a private concert, a triple header of the three acts involved.<\/p>\n

And when we were done, we slept on the train, got up at the crack of dawn and boarded a bus for the Painted Desert<\/p>\n

PAINTED DESERT & PETRIFIED FOREST<\/span><\/p>\n

A vast wasteland.\u00c2\u00a0 That’s what city dwellers would say as you roll down I-40, endless scrub in front, a few mountains in the far distance.\u00c2\u00a0 But eventually you get to these two National Parks.\u00c2\u00a0 Makes you feel quite small to see these natural wonders. And the rust color of the petrified wood, it was staggering.\u00c2\u00a0 You almost wanted to break off a chunk and take it home.\u00c2\u00a0 But the visitors center was littered with letters of regret.\u00c2\u00a0 The most entertaining being the one that stated the sender was returning the rock because ever since he’d stolen it his life had turned to shit.\u00c2\u00a0 Divorce, car wreck, physical ailment…\u00c2\u00a0 It was almost funny.\u00c2\u00a0 Karma’s a bitch.<\/p>\n

LA POSADA<\/span><\/p>\n

Check it out: La Posada Hotel<\/a><\/p>\n

A Colter hotel that two yuppies rescued from ruin.<\/p>\n

It served Route 66, then after the Interstate diverted traffic elsewhere, the Santa Fe railroad employed it and then this couple bought it and restored it.<\/p>\n

Huge and hysterical.\u00c2\u00a0 Authentic, yet filled with the wife’s modern art.\u00c2\u00a0 Food is better than you’d imagine and you somehow feel rooted here in the middle of nowhere.<\/p>\n


GRAND CANYON<\/span><\/p>\n

That’s where we went at the crack of dawn on Tuesday morning.\u00c2\u00a0 Well, we would have left at 7:15 if Larry from Facebook hadn’t gotten hung up in the shower.<\/p>\n

Actually, we didn’t find out he was a programmer at Facebook until the next morning.\u00c2\u00a0 He didn’t want to wear the sobriquet of loser and he wasn’t.\u00c2\u00a0 Quite a nice guy, in fact.\u00c2\u00a0 Like Charlie said, you really get to know someone on a train.<\/p>\n

And after visiting the big hole, we returned the two and a half hours back.\u00c2\u00a0 Through Flagstaff, past the giant crater into Winslow, Arizona.<\/p>\n

TAKE IT EASY<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, that’s where La Posada is.\u00c2\u00a0 Winslow, Arizona.\u00c2\u00a0 Yes, like the Eagles song.<\/p>\n

Well I’m standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona<\/span>
Such a fine sight to see<\/span>
It’s a girl my lord in a flatbed Ford<\/span>
Slowing down to take a look at me<\/span><\/p>\n

We may lose or we may win, but we will never be here again.\u00c2\u00a0 So I wanted to see the famous corner!<\/p>\n

Believe me, it’s famous, the whole city is trading on it!\u00c2\u00a0 You can chalk up Winslow’s revival to the ubiquity of "Take It Easy". There’s an R. Crumb-inspired postcard in every hotel room with the details.\u00c2\u00a0 You almost think it’s real.<\/p>\n

But it turns out to be metaphorical.<\/p>\n

Not that the city hasn’t created a tourist site.\u00c2\u00a0 A wall painted with, you guessed it, a girl in a flatbed Ford.\u00c2\u00a0 Even better, there’s a red flatbed Ford parked nearby, along with a statue of a musician with a tiny head who’s supposed to be Glenn Frey or Jackson Browne or..?\u00c2\u00a0 Hell, there’s even an historical marker.<\/p>\n

And across the street there’s a gift shop, where they sell Eagles memorabilia and stream the Eagles’ reunion concert all day long on the big screen.<\/p>\n

Utterly hysterical, and testimony to the power of music.<\/p>\n

JILL SOBULE<\/span><\/p>\n

Do you know the song "Mexican Wrestler"?<\/p>\n

I doubt it.<\/p>\n

Then again, two of the thirtysomething musos on the trip not only didn’t know who Jason Mraz was, they’d never heard "I’m Yours", the biggest song of the year.<\/p>\n

The riders on this excursion had no time for the mainstream.\u00c2\u00a0 They’re supporting the unique artists.\u00c2\u00a0 But can these unique artists survive?<\/p>\n

Barely.<\/p>\n

Not that Jill was complaining.\u00c2\u00a0 But she did wonder what was going to happen in her old age.\u00c2\u00a0 Who’d pay the medical bills?<\/p>\n

Jill is a bundle of energy.\u00c2\u00a0 But far from mindless.\u00c2\u00a0 She was telling me she had a daily quiz on Facebook.\u00c2\u00a0 You had to guess who the famous person was.\u00c2\u00a0 After 5,000 people signed up for her page, the Facebook limit, she had to create another.\u00c2\u00a0 She was not doing it with a goal in mind, but because it was fun.<\/p>\n

Remember fun?\u00c2\u00a0 It used to be the key driver in the music business.<\/p>\n

I told her she should have a weekend.\u00c2\u00a0 With games, a scavenger hunt.\u00c2\u00a0 Music can’t contain all of her personality.<\/p>\n

But when her music is right…<\/p>\n

There were three concerts on this trip, never mind the impromptu playing on the train.\u00c2\u00a0 You got to hear a cornucopia of favorites and covers.<\/p>\n

Yes, Jill played "Stoned Soul Picnic" on the train ride home.\u00c2\u00a0 But she also played "Lucy At The Gym" in Albuquerque.<\/p>\n

America is so sick.\u00c2\u00a0 Your life can’t start until you’re thin and beautiful.\u00c2\u00a0 So, you keep on getting ready for the game, not realizing you’re supposed to play all along.\u00c2\u00a0 Do you really want to be Madonna?\u00c2\u00a0 Working out for hours just to fit someone else’s perception?<\/p>\n

But my favorite is "Mexican Wrestler".<\/p>\n

Ever been in love with someone who doesn’t love you?<\/p>\n

Oh, they almost never hate you, they actually like you, but they don’t know about your feelings, and if they do, they’re certainly not reciprocated.\u00c2\u00a0 You get butterflies when you see them, both go to places where you think they’re going to be and avoid places for fear of running into them.\u00c2\u00a0 You imagine a life of relationship perfection.\u00c2\u00a0 That’s unrequited.<\/p>\n

You will never love me<\/span>
And this I can’t forgive<\/span>
That you will never love me<\/span>
As long as I will live<\/span><\/p>\n


THE HANDSOME FAMILY<\/span><\/p>\n

I’d never heard of them.\u00c2\u00a0 But they were friends of Stan, and they lived in Albuquerque.\u00c2\u00a0 So we picked them up there.<\/p>\n

And the last night at La Posada, waiting for the train to come pick us up, I had to ask Brett Sparks, the male half of this husband and wife team, "Why Albuquerque?"<\/p>\n

Well, they could buy a house in the best creative neighborhood for a hundred grand, his mortgage payment is six hundred bucks.\u00c2\u00a0 But the music scene sucks.<\/p>\n

Well, not exactly.\u00c2\u00a0 But it’s not like Chicago, where they’d been residing before.\u00c2\u00a0 And they’re on the road for eight months out of the year anyway.\u00c2\u00a0 They’re big in England, and in the States, Frank keeps them working.<\/p>\n

That’s Frank Riley, of High Road Touring.\u00c2\u00a0 Brett couldn’t stop testifying.\u00c2\u00a0 How he couldn’t do it without Frank, how he wouldn’t know what to do without Frank.\u00c2\u00a0 A label is no longer important, it’s all about your agent.\u00c2\u00a0 He’s the one who gets you your paying gigs.<\/p>\n


LOVE IN VAIN<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe this Stones record, a rearrangement of a blues classic, was in my brain because Brett sang it in the song circle not long before we left the hotel.<\/p>\n

Well, actually, it was a couple of hours.\u00c2\u00a0 You see, the train was late.\u00c2\u00a0 But finally, after mustering all our gear by the rear door, the assembled multitude emerged outside, ready to hop onto the cars for the ride back to L.A.<\/p>\n

There was no station, no platform, no siding.\u00c2\u00a0 We were just standing there in the dark, under a million stars.<\/p>\n

There was a white line.\u00c2\u00a0 I implored Jill and Yves to get on the right side of it.\u00c2\u00a0 Obviously, they’d not spent much time on the New Haven railroad.<\/p>\n

And a BNSF freight train started accelerating to our right, pulling goods back east.\u00c2\u00a0 And deep in the distance to the left, led by a bright headlight, was our train.\u00c2\u00a0 Which crept up on us slowly.\u00c2\u00a0 But when that much steel ultimately approaches, the speed no longer matters, you feel insignificant, like a bug, or dust.<\/p>\n

And Charlie had told us the train was stopping solely for us.\u00c2\u00a0 That we had to get on fast.<\/p>\n

So the conductor laid down some steps and we ran on, fearful of being left behind.<\/p>\n

TRAIN, TRAIN<\/span><\/p>\n

What’s your favorite train song?<\/p>\n

The first one that comes to mind is Tom Rush’s "Panama Limited".<\/p>\n

Then, of course, there’s Ozzy’s classic "Crazy Train".<\/p>\n

What did Bob Dylan sing, "It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry?"\u00c2\u00a0 Stephen Stills and Al Kooper do a killer version on "Super Session".<\/p>\n

How about the New Riders’ "Glendale Train"?\u00c2\u00a0 From the very first album, with "Portland Woman".<\/p>\n

Then there’s the Doobie Brothers’ "Long Train Runnin’".\u00c2\u00a0 Even Laura Nyro’s "Poverty Train".<\/p>\n

But my personal favorite is Wendy Waldman’s "Train Song", the opening cut on her very first album, "Love Has Got Me".<\/p>\n

Well I said, ‘I’d like to catch one’<\/span>
She said, ‘It can’t be done’<\/span>
But can’t you see me ride the rails in the morning sun<\/span><\/p>\n

I lifted the shade to reveal a bright landscape.\u00c2\u00a0 Of freeways and low slung business structures.\u00c2\u00a0 We were rolling back into Los Angeles.<\/p>\n

After allowing Felice to use the bathroom first, I threw on my clothes, got my shit together and walked down to the parlor car.<\/p>\n

Everybody was a bit subdued, almost worn out by four plus days of hijinks, of being in close quarters, running at a fevered pace, like a band on the run, on the road.<\/p>\n

Fifteen minutes early, we pulled into Union Station.\u00c2\u00a0 We got off the train a few minutes after eight a.m.\u00c2\u00a0 And then it was time to say goodbye.<\/p>\n

We were scattering in different directions.\u00c2\u00a0 Us only ten miles west, but two travelers back to London, two back to Canada, others to Houston to San Francisco to…<\/p>\n

Needless to say, when I finally got home, I was knackered.<\/p>\n

But I had an inner glow.\u00c2\u00a0 I’d lived through something.\u00c2\u00a0 It was good to be on solid ground, but I couldn’t wait to ride the rails once again.<\/p>\n

\n
Mystery Train<\/a><\/p>\n

LARail<\/a><\/p>\n

We slept on the Salisbury Beach<\/a><\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n

<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

THE GRAND CANYON We were only on the South Rim for three hours.\u00c2\u00a0 Deploying at the Bright Angel Lodge. I hadn’t been there since 1966.\u00c2\u00a0 Needless to say, the Grand Canyon hadn’t changed.\u00c2\u00a0 It’s vast!\u00c2\u00a0 Far larger than you can imagine, almost too big to comprehend.\u00c2\u00a0 A huge hole with giant mountains resembling tits cropping […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1,3,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2413","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life","category-live-shows","category-the-music"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p96vPs-CV","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2413"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2414,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413\/revisions\/2414"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2413"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2413"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lefsetz.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2413"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}