28 November, 2022

The Corona Diaries Vol. 67: Redux

(early September 2022)

(Enjoy the prelude.)

September started on a musical note. Or rather, many musical notes. A concert series runs during the summer months down at one of Madison’s newer parks, McPike, which is smack dab in the middle of the isthmus. This was to be the last concert of the season and would feature The Cash Box Kings, whom I last saw back in June, and Lost Bayou Ramblers, a Louisiana band that plays Cajun music, sometimes as if the bayou was on Saturn, with the spirit of Jimi Hendrix.

But first I wanted to grab some more photographs of mundane Madison. My task was to get more pictures of buildings with their names (usually set in stone) over the entryway. Like this one:

I believe that Ann Emery Hall is apartments today but was originally built back in the 1930s as an all-women’s dorm. What do you call those things around the doorway? Reliefs? They had some very nice detail.

Is this a Torah?

I used to work at this place.

For a while, I was incredulous at the notion that it was simply and unimaginatively called “State Office Building” but that appears to be its official nom de boring. The interior is really nice and I believe you can still mail a letter by dropping it down the mail chute, even from the upper floors. However, when I worked there, I’d occasionally hear about a letter getting stuck in the chute.

A bit of trivia. When I worked there, I would sometimes have to mail computer equipment for warranty replacement, such as a dead laptop battery. Most of the time I dealt with a really mild-mannered guy in the mail room named Jon. One day someone told me that Jon (French) was a drummer and that he’d played with various luminaries such as Curtis Mayfield back in the day. Well, I just had to know if this was true and so I marched down the hall to the mail room one day to ask him about this rumor. Well, turns out what I'd heard was true as Jon confirmed that he had played with Curtis Mayfield, et al. In fact, I believe you can hear French’s work on the Super Fly soundtrack. Jon was so humble about it – almost to the point of being blasé – while I was standing there with my mouth agog, he was rattling off the list of sessions he played on as if he were telling me what he ate for breakfast.

This in addition to Clyde Stubblefield, James Brown’s long time drummer, who moved to Madison in 1971. Very odd how these great R&B drummers ended up here in Madison.

In addition to building names, I’ve been photographing addresses with halvsies like this one:

That belongs to an entrance at the back of a bakery, hence the spoon.

Evening arrived and I was off to McPike Park for the music. I locked up my bike before grabbing a beer as The Cash Box Kings hit the stage.

Singer Oscar Wilson hails from Chicago – 43rd and Wells, I believe – while the other singer (and harmonica player), Joe Nosek, is a Madisonian who grew up in suburban Chicago. The second guitarist, whose name I cannot recall was a gentleman from Japan. I found this odd as, the last time I saw them perform, the guest piano player was a woman from Japan. You just never know who'll show up with The Cash Box Kings, I guess.

Their drummer at this gig was Kenny “Beady Eyes” Smith, also hailing from Chicago. I know this is going to sound dorky but that guy has great cymbal work. Just the way he moved from high-hat to ride cymbal and back. What a groove!

The weather was great, the beer was great, and The Cash Box Kings were great. There were smiles everywhere and they sounded like they were having fun. And the music was the kind to get your booty shakin'.

After a brief interval, Lost Bayou Ramblers took the stage. I heard them for the first time last September on an episode of Accordion Noir, a radio show out of Vancouver dedicated to the titular instrument. I immediately took to the live version of “Pine Grove Blues” featured on that program. It was Cajun music but heavier, fuzzier, and grittier. Think about how the acoustic Delta blues got electrified when musicians moved to Chicago and that'll give you an idea.

Brothers Louis and Andre lead the band on fiddle and accordion, respectively. I was right up front and could see that Louis had a big grin on his face when he wasn’t singing – mostly in French.

Andre had an array of effects pedals which allowed him to cull some non-traditional, shall we say, sounds out of his accordion.

Lots of people were dancing and I think the band picked up on that. Their set was an energetic mix of Cajun music played with a nod to the traditional, at times, and others when they went their own way.

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One morning I woke up in the middle of the antelucan hours and began my trek to the bathroom. Turning the corner into the kitchen, I saw in the dim glow from the street light two cat-like forms squatting in front of the stove and staring at it.

We had a mouse.

“This can wait till later,” I decided and continued on to the bathroom and back to bed.

When I got up to begin my day, Piper was still eyeing up the stove while Grabby was over by the food dishes with an anxious look in her eyes. Grabby is 15 or so and I suspect that, after sitting in front of the stove for a while in the dark, she felt like Danny Glover's character in Lethal Weapon and thought to herself, "I'm too old for this shit." I grabbed a pair of work gloves that I keep handy for these occasions and made coffee while keeping an eye on Piper.

With the coffeemaker doing is job, I turned to see her head emerge out from behind a garbage can with the little critter in her maw. It was a rather large mouse and Piper victoriously strutted into the dining room with her head proudly held high for all (i.e. - me and Grabby) to see. Suddenly the mouse jumped nearly a foot in the air and ran behind the cookbook shelf, eluding her embarrassed captor. Oops!

Piper poked around underneath as Grabby looked on with renewed interest but to no avail. I took a peek behind the shelf and saw the mouse hanging onto the back of it for dear life like some kind of rodent Harold Lloyd. My desire for coffee was growing so I grabbed a broom and poked at the woebegone little creature. It ran into the kitchen with Piper close behind.

I zipped around the counter only to see Grabby standing there perfectly still with the mouse in her mouth. The whole scene reminded me of the ending of The Blair Witch Project. She may be an old lady cat but she’s still dexterous enough to snag a mouse when the mood strikes her.

I had the work gloves on at this point and I retrieved the poor mouse from the Maws of Death and took it outside where I let it loose. It hasn’t been seen since.

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Many an entry ago I mentioned that my Frau and I went out for dinner at a Thai place called Ahan. I ordered the tom yum soup with chicken on that visit and discovered that the fowl been breaded and fried before being dedicated to the broth. While not terrible by any means, I was ambivalent about the saturated breading and made a MacArthur-like vow to return and have the tom yum with tofu. Well, the next time finally came and I made good on my pledge.


It was excellent as the tofu had been fried so it was crispy on the outside yet moist (but firm) inside. I love how they garnish the soup with bits of crispy garlic. The Frau ordered dumplings and lemongrass chicken spring rolls. Those were quite delicious as well.

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David Lynch’s Lost Highway is back in theaters with a new 4K digital print and I availed myself of the opportunity to see it earlier this month.

I think it’s considered a minor work in his film career but I love it. While not a horror movie, it really spooks me. I really love Lynch because his movies are so uncanny and the first act of Lost Highway is a masterclass in creating unease. The gentleman who introduced the film said that it was going to be shown at Lynch’s preferred volume levels which was neat because he constructs some potent soundscapes that go a long way in unsettling the viewer.

The movie’s first act is just blatantly disturbing and scary. With the volume turned up, all of the low hums and eerie ambient sounds were readily audible and they really heightened the mood. Plus the dialogue is often spoken with distinct pauses and doesn’t have the natural flow of conversation in real life. Add in the occasional jump scare and you have a truly bizarre experience.


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Bonus photo. Here’s another clipping from one of the Milwaukee dailies back in the day when The Birth of a Nation was a new release.


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