As the summer of ’81 waned in New Hudson, Ohio, Kathy Clark packed her life into her yellow Nova to head north to Ann Arbor and grad school, closing out the last “free” summer she’d see for several decades. She was leaving behind her high school teacher’s post at Western Reserve Academy to see what she might do with this Kinesiology thing. U of M didn’t pay her right off the bat and she had to put in early mornings at the Bagel Factory to make ends meet. Teaching “Dance for Fitness” (or “Dance for Fatness”, as she liked to call it) brought her first U paycheck and her PhD research was going well enough 2 ½ years later to land a collaboration with a young post-doctoral fellow in Rheumatology. The rest is – as they say – history (1). Unlike her football season tickets, her duties at the U were interrupted a couple of times so when she decided in the Winter of ’20 she’d hang ‘em up at the end of that term, the big bad U said pas si vite! That didn’t stop us from having a big blowout retirement party on her birthday that summer (2), but it was back in the saddle that Fall for one more half-time term, with another added on for good measure so her Dean could keep her as Associate Chair. But this June, she finally packed up her academic life and her campus office no longer bears her name. As always happens at the U, once you’re gone they write nice things about you. The piece below is in the Fall 2022 issue of Movement, publication of the School of Kinesiology. I’m sure the readers of this blog have heard plenty about me, so for a change I thought I’d give you a longer peak at my dear wifey. Yes, I’m the luckiest man in the world.
I wrote this shortly after I’d received the sad news that George Frayne IV, (U of M BFA ’66, MFA ’68) – A.K.A. Commander Cody – had passed as of 9/26/21. I never posted it, but now that his life is being celebrated across the country, I think it’s time.
Some readers of this blog may have picked up by now my deathless devotion to that 70s band out of Ann Arbor, Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen. Has any band had a wilder name? And, I submit, no band was more fun. In my life, I’ve never had more fun than what I felt at a Commander Cody concert. I wrote a small book about the joyous, raucous relationships I’ve had with the band and its offshoots over the past half century (1) a new edition is coming, and I’ve posted a loving blog about my celebration of the 50th anniversary of my first seeing them in concert (2). While it was a hobby of mine in college to kype concert posters, I never snagged the one for that show. I’ve since located it – kyped from the Commander’s web page – and it hangs proudly in my entryway, first thing you see as you come in the door.
Now that the Commander is dead can we elevate his band to the immortals? The remaining Lost Planet Airmen still play about in various guises, with enthusiasm. But the originals all together were so special and unique, we need to take every opportunity to experience them. Sure, between the whole band and the Commander himself, they’ve put out a host of CDs with the same songs over and over. But I’ve just become aware of a new release that anyone who is CC&hLPA curious needs to hear. Released on www.sunsetblvdrecords.com, the two disc set even states that a dollar of each purchase will go to the American Cancer Society in the memory of George Frayne aka Commander Cody. It was esophageal cancer that finally took him on 9/26/01 after a 3 year struggle. Fortunately, the band left a trail of tapes to be tapped. This new CD set – “Strange Adventures on Planet Earth” – is one of them.
Don’t the boys look mellow?
Recorded across a number of live dates in ’73 and ’74 ranging from Australia to Rotterdam to Stony Brook, the band is at the top of their game. An indication they’re at the end of the line is that Ernie Hagar is on pedal steel, replacing Bobby “Blue” Black, who’d replaced West Virginia Creeper. Ernie was no slouch, an ace pedal steel player, recording since ’65. At the end of the last cut on the first disc – “Hey-hey-hey-hey” John Tichy calls to the audience “We love you, goodbye!”. Is that it? Fortunately, disc 2 opens with Billy C. singing “There’s good rockin’ tonight”, and for 13 more cuts, there surely is. How can you not like a set that begins with “Hot Rod Lincoln” and ends with “Too Much Fun”? In between is all that Commander music that serves poorly to promote sedate and sober behavior. But sometimes, that’s just what we need.
$23.99 on Amazon and worth every penny, IMHO. If you want to immerse yourself in an hour and half of the Commander Cody experience – accompanied by the intoxicant(s) of your choice, of course – this would be the dive I’d recommend.
If you want to have a little taste first, check out their performance at the John Sinclair Freedom Rally at Crisler Arena in Ann Arbor December 1971 (3). On a bill that included Stevie Wonder, Phil Ochs, Bob Seger, Archie Shepp, Joy of Cooking, David Peel, Teagarden and VanWinkle, the Up, and John Lennon (yes, the Beatle), they stole the show before the 17,000 assembled. Here’s their performance, ripped from “Ten for Two” the documentary of the event bankrolled by John and Yoko (she was there, too). The set includes their big hit and the saddest song ever written. Fortunately, the boys move right into “There’s a riot going on”, so you barely have time to put away the razor blades and the barbituates. If you want an extended concert, check out their radio concert from 1975 (4).
Chances for you to go celebrate the Art, Music, and Life of Commander Cody are fading. Already we’ve had gatherings in Troy NY and Mill Valley California. So any of the Cody faithful, and the Cody LPA guys showed up in NY, are coming. The Troy NY gathering was fabulous (5). Mill Valley was diluted by a lot of the “Western airmen” that accompanied him when he was out there. We’ll miss NYC as we’ll be in Chicago. Troy was magnificent, as I wrote. Rumors are for an album, so keep tuned.
As the Commander and his boys sung many times “Don’t let go” (6).
3. Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen. John Sinclair Freedom Rally performance. (from Ten for Two, premiered 4/1/72. Produced by John Lennon and Yoko Ono). Posted to YouTube by RW Ike 3/3/21. Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZ21BHiSlJ4
In my part of Michigan, we get our electricity and natural gas from DTE. While the name suggests a Detroit link, the company is based in Cincinnati and serves 3 states (Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky) totaling 13 counties. The company traces its origins to 1849 as the Detroit Gas Company, formed to supply the city’s gas streetlights. Streetlighting changed when Thomas Edison came to town at the turn of the century. The gas company survived under various guises, longest as Michigan Consolidated Gas (MichCon). In 1996, Detroit Edison formed a holding company bearing its stock symbol (DTE) and swallowed up MichCon to make a company that allows us to pay one check for all our home energy needs. They count 2,244,950 customers (2 transportation accounts, 2,036,506 residential properties, 207,722 commercial customers and 719 industrial accounts) who purchase their electricity from the company. DTE Energy’s consumers are charged an average residential electricity price of 17.86 cents per kilowatt hour, which is 32.59% more than the average US rate of 13.47 cents. In 2020 the company sold 40,629,495 megawatt hours by way of retail sales to end users. Electricity generation facilities owned by DTE Energy produced 47.60% of the megawatt hours sourced by the supplier and an additional 52.40% was procured on the wholesale electricity market. So, when calculating the key metric CO2 produced per power generated, figure the denominator to be 19,339,640 megawatt hours. Their total revenue for 2020 from electricity related activities was $7,561,877,800, with 27.60% coming from wholesale electricity sales and 68.97% from retail sales to end users (1).
The company generates a total of 23,767,774.34 megawatt hours from the burning of coal, which is the 21st most out of 3510 electric providers in the United States (2). They must be counting coal use by others on the wholesale electricity market from whom they buy electricity to pass on. DTE Energy’s electricity production plants produce 3,220,046.81 megawatt hours from the use of natural gas. DTE Energy produces 92.60% of their total electricity production from non-renewable fuels. The total electricity generated from non-renewable sources is 37,309,896.28 megawatt hours, which is 30th highest out of 3510 providers in the country. DTE Energy generates 2,434,632 megawatt hours of electricity (or 6.04% of their total electricity generation) from wind turbines. Their biggest source is coal, accounting for 58.99% of fuel used, then comes nuclear (!) at 23.25%, natural gas at 23.25, wind 7.99%, other 6.04%.
DTE remains heavily involved in coal processing (3). This portion of the company’s history has been purged from their website, and their mines in Appalachia, which account for DTE’s reach into Kentucky, are dormant. But DTE’s wholly owned subsidiary MERC (Midwest Energy Resource Company) operates 15 train sets of 123 cars each to transport the coal from mines mainly in the Powder Ridge Basin of Montana and Wyoming but also from Colorado, Utah and British Columbia to Superior Midwest Energy Terminal (SMET) on St. Louis Bay in Superior Wisconsin, on Lake Michigan. The unit trains travel the 1,000-mile route in approximately two days carrying 14,500 tons of coal. The coal is primarily for DTE’s coal fired plants but also reaches elsewhere, as stated on their web site “We have sufficient capacity to accommodate the coal transshipment needs of additional electric utilities and industrial firms throughout the Great Lakes region.”
While DTE aims to reduce its emissions to zero by 2050, they have a ways to go (4). I’ve had trouble getting raw numbers on their total CO2 output but did come across their own calculation 2,141.4 lb. CO2/MWh. Figuring 2200#/metric ton, that’s 0.973 metric tons/MWh. That’s almost twice what San Diego Gas and Electric accounts for. Guess all that coal makes a difference, and the nuclear doesn’t quite offset.
But let’s get into the reason for this post. How much does it cost to drive an electric car in Michigan, both what we pull out of our pocket and slap at Mother Earth? Of course, DTE has some plans to ease the pain. 3 all told (5). One requires a new meter on your house and in turn gives you juice for 11¢/kwh at night (11 PM – 9 AM) and 24 ¢/kwh rest of the time. That’s only for the juice that flows through your EV charger. The others charge all juice according to time of day, making it advantageous to stay up late enough to run your dishwasher (and charge your car) at 11 PM. All good deal rates are subject to suspension should a” Critical Peak Event” be called.
For our analysis, I’d hoped to pull in an electric car more suited to the modest sensibilities of us Michiganders. True, Teslas are the best-selling electric cars nationwide, but I haven’t seen many even around A square, which has enough well-heeled old hippies to fork over Elon’s tariff. I’ve been unable to acquire a list of the 10 best selling EVs in Michigan. So, I’m going completely arbitrary here. I pulled Car and Driver’s best 12 EVs (6). Some pretty fancy cars on this list. Detroit boy that I am (my mom was raised in Detroit, my adoptive dad put in 31 years with Fisher Body, as did I for 4 college summers) I picked the Chevy Bolt, which sold 24,803 units in 2021, despite supply problems that limited inventory. It’s a pretty and sexy car, if pretty compact. Although Josh Tavel was titular chief engineer for the original Chevy Volt, its predecessor, Bob Lutz, legendary engineer and GM Vice Chairman then, stood solidly behind the project (7), even though he had called global warming a “total crock of sh**” (8), praising the product as a “magnificent piece of engineering”. When the car was in concept stage, he pushed for a full electric vehicle, but was overruled by GM’s president John Laukner, who thought that by having a gas engine to charge the lithium battery, “people would not be on a tether” (9). This more than doubled the complexity of the project and engineers had to design systems both for the internal combustion engine and the electric motor, plus the means by which they would interact. Toyota managed this with the Prius in 1997, releasing it on the US market in 2001. Lutz, in an interview several years after he retired from GM, offered that he thought the Volt should have been a pickup truck (10).
So, the power used for charging is 11.5 kw applied for 7 hours, or 80.5 kwh. That gets you 247 miles, or 3.07 mi/kwh. With DTE charging an average of 17.86¢/kwh, you’ll be paying 5.82¢/mile. Could be less if you’ve got one of those fancy plans. With 0.973 metric tons CO2/MWh, each fill-up generates 0.0841 tons/fill-up. Taking 40 fill-ups to get you 10,000 miles, that’s about 3.9 metric tons/year.
Let’s bring those Teslas into a Michigan environment for comparison
While I didn’t mean to go all “Car-and-Driver” with this, it’s only fair I show the competitors I’m writing about the two Teslas.
Here’s the luxurious top-of-the-line S model:
And here’s the more modest Y model my friend Ken owns:
Since you seldom base your car purchase on the stat sheet. I’m sure you’ll agree, both have plenty of “curb appeal”. Let me tell you, it gets even better up close.
Let’s bring back in our Tesla Y for some comparisons using Michigan numbers (15). Recall that fill-up takes 8 hr. 15 minutes, pushing 11 kw. That’s 90.75 kw-h/fill-up. Figuring 303 miles/charge, that’s 3.33 mi/kw-h. At Michigan prices, that’s 5.3¢/mile. With those 33 fill-ups per year to reach 10,000 miles, the CO2 belch comes to 2.91 metric tons/year. The S has a slightly bigger battery. But also is a slightly heavier car, so numbers are similar. I don’t think you fork over the extra $40K to save 0.6¢/mile. Those pennies do add up. If you drive 1,044,386 miles, you’d make up the difference. That’s a lotta charges.
If you like your car stats all in a row, here ya go:
Transmission of electricity over power lines is not 100% efficient. DTE reports that energy lost through electricity transmission as 4.18% of their electricity production total. I was going to factor this in just for yucks, but you can just bump up the CO2 and cost numbers accordingly.
It’s just not electric cars coming, but trucks and busses too. Elon Musk has put out the sexiest, sleekest semi I’ve ever seen (16).
But with that 500-mile range, that poor trucker driving it will have to down a lotta cups of coffee while he waits for his rig to recharge. You can reserve one for a mere $20K (17), paying the remaining $130K or so upon delivery sometime next year. Thanks to the “Inflation Reduction Act of 2022”, Uncle will knock $40K off that (18). You can get an almost new 2022 diesel Peterbilt for $160-230K. Watch 8 and a half minutes of Tesla truck porn here (19). Not all those big EVs are Teslas, and sometimes the electrons just don’t provide the needed oomph (20).
New owners of electric cars can expect a few idiosyncrasies that weren’t there with their trust gas-guzzlers. The biggest of course concerns the juice: getting it, getting enough of it, what to do when it runs out, and realizing what it really came from. I’ll cover all that a little later, as those concerns confront every driver. Of the less common happenings, the most common is repair. Even EVs require maintenance, tho’ much less than a traditional car with more moving parts and fluids to be kept going and flowing. Although regular EV maintenance is touted as less expensive than that for cars with internal combustion engines (ICE) (21), the reality is somewhat different (22). The mechanic adept with the internal combustion engine must completely retrain to work on EVs, so just finding someone to fix your car might be a challenge. Collision repairs are more costly, and the heavier battery laden EVs collide with greater impact. EV electronics are more complex than in ICE cars, hence more expensive to repair. And God forbid if you have to replace the battery (23). Repair shops must extensively retool to serve EV owners, and need to recoup those costs somewhere. And it can’t help that the after purchase service for Teslas not only sucks be seems malignant (24).
An electric car is basically a rolling computer. Engineers at Tesla especially, but also other EV makers, are fond of frequent upgrades so the owner is constantly faced with new bells and whistles to master. The computer display that replaces the dashboard consumes a wide swath of the driver’s field of view. I thought you were supposed to keep your eyes off the electronic devices while driving! And, like any computer, EVs can he hacked (25). Of course, computer communications go two ways. Mr. Musk keeps a close eye on your driving in turn for offering you his own insurance, far cheaper than conventional insurance provided you drive like Elon wants you to (26).
There have always been car fires. Gasoline burns, of course. But boy do those lithium batteries burn! Everybody likes hot cars, and Jags used to be near the top of the list, but this might not be how to go about it (27). Here’s a measured and detailed article on the whole EV flambé problem (28). Yes, it’s real (but gas guzzlers catch fire too), has a known basis from those darned lithium batteries, and is worse with older cars.
flames, but charging affects all drivers. There aren’t enough charging stations, and at 30¢-60¢/kW-h public charging costs 3 to 5 times more than home charging. Even the more expensive level 3 chargers take way longer to “fill up” than the time you used to spend at the pump. Some writers see this problem as the biggest hurdle to wider demand for EVs (29). Although in reality, it’s the number, not performance, of charging stations that really matters. If enough drivers convert to make half of all vehicles on the road electric by 2030, 30 million more charging ports will need to be built – 478 per day – a venture that will cost upwards of $35 billion (30). Right now, the country has over 128,000 public EV charging outlets and at least 4,500 private charging stations – in comparison with about 150,000 gas stations. It is estimated that the new units will be mostly private 48 million versus 1.2 million public. An attraction of private chargers is that electricity bought at public chargers is much more expensive, as noted above. Where all that juice will come from remains an unsettled issue. Finally, those who want to take their EVs on the great American road will find that freedom shackled by charging issues (31,32).
Despite the inconvenience, negligible net effect on the environment, plus safety issues, you still want one of these coal burners? Will you be able to afford one? They cost way more than a gas car to make, and prices are climbing rapidly (33). Many little companies are jumping into the fray to make EVs, seeing rising demand (34). While increased competition should mean falling prices, the trend is in the other direction as battery prices skyrocket. In response Uncle ($7500) (35) and others (e.g., up to $7000 in California, just not on Teslas) (36) have jumped in with tax incentives and rebates for buyers. As most buyers of EVs are affluent, these programs amount to yet another of those “tax breaks for the rich” one side always rails against. Those on the lower economic rungs are screwed if they want to virtue signal, when all they can really afford is a used Civic. California rolled out a program aiming to help these people into a nice EV, but it’s been a horrible mess, with long wait lists and some local programs having to shut down, some running out of funds as early as April (37). Once again, California shows the nation the way. Come 2035, you won’t be able to buy a new gas guzzler in the Golden State (38).hhyub
With much of the demand for EVs driven by a concern for the environment, it’s worthwhile to examine the impact of making and driving these vehicles. I think I’ve already made the point that EVs generate plenty of CO2. It’s just done at the generating plant and not the tailpipe. Just as you gotta pull stuff out of the ground to run a gas guzzler, you gotta pull several kinds of stuff out of the ground to keep an EV going. Digging for the lithium to stock all those batteries is very dirty business, at least as bad for the environment as drilling for and burning hydrocarbons (39). But it happens halfway around the world, so who cares? Then ya need that cobalt, and nickel, too. Ya don’t pick those up by the side of the road. And who sits on most of the world’s stuff? Why, our good friends the ChiComs. Then of course all batteries go dead, and lithium units are no exception. Ya know how you’re told to take care how you toss your flashlight batteries? Well, it’s Godzilla versus gecko talking about Li++ batts (40). A little bit can be recycled, but they take up huge amount of space in landfills, leech toxic compounds, and never lose the chance to catch fire. And as we must never lose sight of the human angle, where are those mobs of angry bipolars, holding signs “Hands off my lithium!”?
As California continues its manic dash to an all-electric future, it behooves us to take a close look at what’s going on out there now (41, 42). Even the king of EVs, Mr. Musk, cautions that we not transition from oil and gas too quickly, as we risk rending the very fabric of civilization (43). He’s even calling for an increase in oil and gas production to make up for Russian shortfalls poised to plunge Europe into a frigid winter. The recent California heat wave has taxed their fragile power grid so severely that EV owners have been asked to back off from all that charging, although it’s still o.k. to juice up if that’s your only way to bug out (44). Seems those EVs fight global warming best when parked in the driveway, a symbol of the owner’s commitment. What’s that we call it when something is offered to a cause? An oblation? And if you still have some juice in that parked EV, it can come in handy for other things (45). Unfortunately, an appreciation of irony is not deeply embedded in the typical Californian’s soul, particularly the self-righteous EV drivers. More than 15 years ago, Trey Parker and Matt Stone at South Park pointed out the insufferable smugness of Prius drivers (46). Can you imagine how much worse todays’ EV drivers must be? Hey, I’m savin’ the f*ckn’ planet, man! Few Californians would wish to be in West Virginia, but at least there you can get come coal miners to push you to the next charging station when you run out of juice (47).
California has the reputation as the birthplace of trends that eventually sweep the country. Some, like their Governor Reagan, turn out pretty well. Could the chaos currently sweeping the Golden State turn into a lesson that might bring sanity to the rest of us who may not possess it already (48)? There are about 2-3 million electric cars in California, which their grid can’t support in a time of mild crisis. Should their 2035 mandate play out, there will be at least 10 times as many electric cars. Is this even, in one of the favored words of the left, “sustainable”? Or might it be time to take a deep breath and ask where all this madness is going? Whether the rest of the country should follow California’s suicide pact energy policy is highly debatable, even if Michigan’s previous Gov. Bimbo, currently drawing a government check as Energy Secretary, kinda likes it. It’s been said that our Constitution is not a suicide pact. Can we say the same about the fervor to mitigate “climate change”? Stay tuned, and fill ‘er up!
40. Harper, G., Sommerville, R., Kendrick, E. et al. Recycling lithium-ion batteries from electric vehicles. Nature 575, 75–86 (2019). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-019-1682-5.
Among the items awaiting me in my mailbox upon returning from Phuket was the KingSize catalogue my USPS daily digest warned me about a couple days ago. I thought it might be a joke but there it was, in all its scarlet and gray glory.
Was KingSize trying to shed the state of Michigan? I’ve been a loyal KingSize customer since my gangly teen years when no one else could fit me, except at great expense, now still buying stuff from them like loose pants of all weights that are long enough. As Americans have expanded, so have sources for big and tall stuff, but I keep going back to the originals. So why did they do this to me? I’m not one to complain to corporate, but somebody had to hear about this. Hard to do on their web page, where your choices are an 800 number or an e-mail with a little box that won’t even take 100 words. Fortunately, I found https://kingsize.pissedconsumer.com/customer-service.html, which gave their their corporate address in El Paso. King Size is part of a 14 company conglomerate, so who knows who will read what I send. See below what I sent their way.
KingSize used to be based in Indianapolis. Maybe it they stayed there they’d have retained their BigTen sensibilities enough to know what that cover would do to a big chunk of their base. Now they’re based in Texas, which means they’re Southern. My Dixie-chick girlfriend Donna, now living in South Carolina, tells me they have a phrase for just such misguided behavior: “Bless their hearts”.
It wasn’t much like the crazy “rockabilly funeral” Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen sang about (1), but the spirit inside the Hangar on the Hudson Sunday night was sure similar. All were gathered for “A Celebration of the Art, Music, and Life” of Commander Cody, who ascended to the outer ozone late last September. The events (2 to come) were the brainchild of Sue Casanova (wife of George Frayne, IV – a.k.a. Commander Cody), who on the day (9/26/21) she announced he’d died also announced:
“We are working on 2 big gatherings
On both the east and west coast
(The Island and the Bay Area)
To celebrate the Old Commander’s phenomenal life
And to benefit musicians in need.”
Sunday night in Troy NY, 3 of the 5 remaining Lost Planet Airmen – Bill Kirchen, John Tichy, and Andy Stein – were joined by Dr. Tichy’s son Grant on steel, two other young locals, and the Commander’s longtime drummer Steve Barbuto to help consummate the first of these at last. 200 hippies crowded into the place were treated to more than 3 hours of good old Cody music, with leader Kirchen deftly deflecting shouted requests for Cody songs from the modern era (anything after the group’s ’76 breakup). Of course, all in the audience loved CC&LPA, knew all their songs by heart, and happily shared stories about and pictures of their encounters with the Commander and his group over the past 50 plus years. Sue put up some of her husband’s original paintings and included on the merch table materials about a Foundation she had helped set up- Swan Songs (2) – in his name to help out musicians who were in need. Sue was sweet, sharp, funny, and handsome, “A high-bred, uptown, fancy little dame”, just like the Commander used to sing about (3). I’d been corresponding with her regarding permission to use several pictures out of her husband’s art book (4) in the expanded 2nd edition of my own book on all my fun years with the Commander and his boys, first edition out since last May (5). That and having seen her smiling face on her husband’s web page over the years made it all that more fun to finally meet her in person.
We reached no agreement on the permissions, but I’m sure that’ll come.
As Carly Simon sang in her hit the same year I first saw CC&LPA (6) “We can never know about the days to come. But we think about them anyway” and in that thinking can come much enjoyment, even if the thing anticipated never actually comes to pass. I think that’s why folks like me so enjoy making travel plans, savoring the trip to be taken long before we embark. Sue was the one driving the bus for most of the trip that led to Sunday night’s celebration. She gave it a start with her announcement on George’s Facebook page the day he died. Just the thought of hanging out with others who loved him like I did took some of the sting out of his loss right there. Sue had her slow hand on that bus for many months until 3 Saturdays before the first celebration. Her announcing e-mail came with an attached poster, which I of course took to Kinko’s to be blown up and framed.
Boy did that sound like a party! I had my arrangements made before lunch and would have had them done faster had I not waited for my wife to wake up, silly in retrospect given her enthusiastic assent. I should have known, since I’ve turned her into almost as big a CC&LPA fan as I am, especially of Kirchen. Then it was just waiting, the hardest part, as the much-missed Tom Petty sang (7).
Come the Saturday before the Celebration, all went smoothly. DTW-ALB is an easy flight to a nice small airport just a few miles from our AirBnB a half mile from the venue. Our late afternoon arrival gave time for a little reccie up River Avenue to check out the Hangar (8). Conveniently across the street is the Ale House (9), an old honest neighborhood bar with a good beer selection populated that evening with locals and Cody fans with much overlap. Next to us at the bar was the proprietor of the Hangar, who told us the place used to manufacture orthotics and prosthetics, a past remembered by the artificial legs on the bar serving as the bartenders’ tip jars. The place has a reputation as one of the funkiest venues in the northeast (10). The Commander had played there frequently, making the 35-mile drive down I-87 from Saratoga Springs, where he’d lived since 1998. Dr. John Tichy didn’t moonlight much from his post as Professor and onetime Department Chair of Nuclear and Aerospace Engineering at Rensselaer Polytech in Troy (11), but the Hangar was his favored place to play, as it was for his son Graham. We were told the place held about 200 with limited seating (but efficient beverage service), would be hot inside despite AC, and that we should get there before doors if we wanted to sit (we did).
Going across the street to take a gander, it was a low cement block industrial building, looking like any of the many machine shops in Warren Michigan.
The sunflowers were nice, but plants grow around abandoned buildings all the time. We went home vowing to come back plenty early, killing time in the Ale House till we could start up to get in.
The next day, a nap after a 4-mimosa brunch put us back from our planned 3:30 start. The Ale House was crowded when we went there at 4. Doors were to be at 5, so my wife jumped across the street before she had a sip of her beer. I stayed behind to eat both our chowders and secure go-cups from the waitress. We wiled away some time in line with our new West Virginia friends Steve and George, and were finally let into the sanctum just a little late. Will call was on computer and we were tagged and in. We snagged 2 seats right by the stage, already set up.
We could figure from the instruments who would be where. In the corner by us with the fiddle and the tenor sax would be Android E. Stein of NYC. That big guitar in the middle was obviously a Telecaster, waiting for the Titan Kirchen (12). A nondescript guitar in the far corner would be Dr. Tichy’s. We didn’t know who would man the keyboard in the far back, with the unenviable task of emulating the Commander’s tinklings (it would be local Mike Kelley, who would do fine). Original Airman Buffalo Bruce Barlow was supposed to come to play bass, so that horribly beat up stand up with the Cubs sticker on the back would be his? Turns out he had to stay in California for a family emergency, so local Mo Nelson (with Chicago roots) would play it. He also would prove to be a gifted crooner. Finally, that critical instrument for any country band, the steel guitar, stood waiting for its practitioner. CC&LPA had 3 excellent lap steel guitarists during their time (Creeper/Black/Hagar). Tonight, they’d had to resort to nepotism, asking Dr. Tichy’s son Graham to man it. Graham corrected me that it was only a lap steel, not a pedal steel. Regardless, he, and it, would sound fine throughout. Dr. Tichy snuck out and slipped playlists at 3 critical positions. I teased him “Is that sheet music, Professor?”
Finally, shortly after 6, the boys appeared. Having seen them all in Novato last October, I wasn’t shocked at their appearance. Stein, trim and smiling in his Hawaiian shirt with his curly hair, looked youngest. I’ve seen Bill so much over the years, seeing him get wizened and a little bent over gradually. I used to think he and I looked kinda alike, but I‘m wizened and bent over these days too. If only I had Bill’s energy (and talent!). Professor Tichy looked every bit the part, mostly sitting with his half glasses sliding halfway down his nose. He confessed later to being a “half-nerd”, thanking the Commander and his music for saving him from what could have been. Getting his U of M PhD and a post at Rensselaer within a year of CC&LPA’s breakup, with a subsequent stellar academic career (11), I’d say he got the best of both worlds. Graham is the spitting image of his dad, maybe a little stockier, so you couldn’t help but look up at them and say “Hey, CC&LPA have nerd bookends!”
As they opened with “Gypsy Fiddle”, a Stein showpiece (13), I should have asked my wife to pinch me. But they rolled through two Cody sets fitting for any of the many I’ve reveled in over the past 51 plus years. I was hoping someone would have put the show up on setlist.fm. You could see there what they played and clicked on examples. Maybe someone will still do it. After the show, I told Kirchen this was the best Cody concert I’d heard since they came to the Ark in Ann Arbor for 2 raucous nights in January 2001 as part of their “Not Dead Yet” tour. I’ll not get into specifics. Maybe you had to be there. Too bad you couldn’t be. But I will tell you how they finished. (14). And that’s where we all were, every last one of us. I hope to return sometime soon.
My dad, Dick Ike, Jr., would have turned 104 tomorrow, August 8th, an age his own father had reached. But Dad’s colon cancer was higher up and more invasive than Grandpa’s, and he only lived 9 years after diagnosis and resection. But he died a happy man, as he had lived. Just as his retirement years exceeded his Fisher Body working years (by one), he spent many more years with the burden of a son (nearly 51) than without (only 34). Regardless, I’m so happy he and Mom brought me home from that Grand Rapids hospital in ’52.
One of my duties right after he died was to compose and deliver his eulogy. Others would deliver remarks, but mine were to be committed to a pamphlet put together by undertaker Jon Durham, who happened to be my best friend’s little brother. I reproduce that document here, so you can all read about what a great man my dad was.
In an old country with a proud history like Ireland’s, you’d expect a lot of that. This morning’s side trip from Beaufort to Cork brought me to a sterling modern example of this phenomenon. We set out to hike nearby Tomies Woods, at the edge of Killarney Park.
The trek we’d take took us a mile in then 131 steps down, where we could catch a look at Eas Ui Shúileabháin (O‘Sullivan’s Cascade), a little set of falls as the water came down the rocks from draining waters from Tomies Mountain (735 m elevation) into Loch Leane, where we’ve been yesterday touring Ross Castle.
According to legend this waterfall once ran not with water, but with whiskey instead. The Chieftain of the Fianna, Fionn MacCumhal, resided above the Cascade on Tomies Mountain. It was here that he kept his personal supply of the finest uisgebeatha (whiskey). O’Sullivan of Tomies was lucky enough to share this delightful drop, being the only man bold enough to stand up to Fionn. Unfortunately when the Sassenagh (The English) invaded Ireland, it changed into water and became known as O’Sullivan’s Cascade. (1). Damned English.
There were no good angles for an iPhone camera
This image kyped from the net does it better justice
After the walk back, we headed for the Gap of Dunloe, between the highest mountains in Ireland (McGillycuddy Reeks) and Killaney’s Purple and Tomies mountains. The River Loe flows through the valley, linking its five corrie lakes: Coosaun Lough, Black Lake, Cushnavally Lake, Auger Lake, and Black Lough. Such makes for fabulous adventuring, from rafting to rock climbing to serious hiking. The Gap was unfortunately closed to these activities through the end of August. Closed for maintenance? So the Gap was left to its other primary activity, fleecing tourists. We’d been there the day before, dropping into Moriarity’s shop, which seemed to be an appendage to the restaurant next door. Their bar seemed no great shakes, so we thought we’d check out the knick knacks at their cheesy shop. Little did we know they purveyed high end Irish woolens. Kathy emerged with a beautiful purple cape that set her back several hundred euros.
But appearances are deceptive in the Gap. We thought Kate Kearney’s Cottage was just a little gift shop and lunch counter, passing it by our first time up.
As I read, I learned that Kate ran one of the 10 best pubs in the area, so that was our destination today. She provided a nice Killarney IPA and a Paddy’s uisce bump for me. I had no expectation for any more satisfaction from her place. Everything there was prim and modern, obviously recently updated. Getting back to the men’s, nothing countered this perception, although the sign on the door suggested mischief.
I promised I’d adhere. Tile and sinks were clearly almost new, and shy eliminators had their own little rooms
But to the right, against the wall, was the magnificent installation of someone who still cared.
That such instillations can occur in these modern times speak to some hope that the best of the past might be preserved. If only American pissoir designers might take heed, we beleaguered older males might find some joy as we seek our way through these modern times.
Eire comforts in many other ways, with its slower pace, marvelous locally grown (and caught) food, traditional music, un-peated uisce, beer that satisfies far beyond Guinness, smiling buxom lasses, and a comforting countryside that blends just enough mountain with long stretches of green. And all that water! Add to that a summer climate where the temps rarely exceed 65, and you’ve got a place to which I’m coming back.
“A bad doctor makes the same mistakes day after day and calls it experience” – Tommy Palella, 1982.
I’ve swapped patients for posts, and surely had a few duds, but have been at it a while and it’s been quite the experience. I thought I’d learn from WordPress that this would be my 300th post. Instead, I see I’ve tallied 287 posts but 53 drafts! So depending on how you count it, I’m either a little short or way over. As I had much of this composed in my head while out on the trail this afternoon, why waste it? Not all of those posts were very pithy. The very first – “Introduce yourself” – was provided by WordPress. Some were “shameless plugs” announcing books, and others were tables of contents meant for readers of those books to access. But I started on January 12, 2020 and intend to keep going. Putting my thoughts out there for the public has been immensely fun and satisfying, and I’m pleased at least a few of you joined in.
The number 300 brings to mind a movie:
Hard to believe I’d be so fond of a movie about Spartans, but their battle against the vastly larger Persian army was a glorious thing to watch. Of course, this has nothing to do with writing, other than the number.
The trail we were on wound though the Killarney National Park and ended up at Caisleán an Rois (Ross Castle).
It has at least half again as many years on it as I have posts, built in the early 1500s. It sits on Loch Leane (Lake of Learning) across from a monastery dating to the 7th century that schooled the first King of Ireland. It was the last Irish castle to be taken by Oliver Cromwell’s navy in 1652, victim to a battleship that had been disassembled into 7ths, take to the lake, and reassembled to batter the castle. Residents of the castle and monastery met horrid ends.
We learned these details from the driver who took us on his horse cart back to the city center. There were a song about the English perhaps I’d better not repeat.
The horse carts gather conveniently near to many pubs and shops. We ventured down High Street but turned onto narrow Sráid an Phluincéid (Plunkett Street) where the entertaining pedestrian traffic continued with nary horse nor automobile. Courtney’s pub looked inviting, and indeed it was. A compact set of taps contained all you might want, including 2 fine IPAs: O’Hara’s 51st State and Kilkenny’s Full Circle IPA.
The barkeep said O’Hara was not wading into America’s controversy about DC, but wistfully thinking that Ireland had so much in common with America maybe they should be the 51st state. I assured him I’d be honored to see a shamrock up there among our 50 stars.
Should you want a bump with any of these fine beers, there were many choices.
I went with the special, and it was outstanding.
There were a couple of tables out front for those rare days in Ireland when outside might be inviting, like today’s 20 degree sunny offering.
Drinking like that, such seats can’t be occupied in eternity. The road back in the pub, as it often does in this country, brought wonder. Again the genius Irish engineers had constructed a gleaming temple to men’s needs. I haven’t felt this satisfied since they took the troughs out of the men’s rooms at Michigan Stadium.
It was a sporting event drawing in patrons in the early afternoon.
This was the championship game for hurling, a uniquely Irish sport. Held at Dublin’s Páirc an Chrócaigh (Croke Park), the third largest sports arena in Ireland, all 82,300 seats were filled. I did some hurling back in high school, but I believe this is a different sport. Played on a “pitch” like soccer, the game is much more lively and fast paced. Ya gotta love a sport where the game starts with a ”throw in”. Let ‘em have at it!. Played by men in short pants wearing helmets who tussle with each other at every opportunity, the aim is to propel a small yellow ball through the goal in two different manners using what look like long spoons. There are actual goalposts involved, with similar goalposts also used for Irish football, making the countryside schools look like a place Harbaugh should come recruit. At the base of the goalposts is a net looking much like a soccer goal, manned by a goalie, into which a successful shot garners 3 points. But most of the scoring comes from scooping a ball from anywhere on the pitch up through the goalposts, getting 1 point. The shots were pretty amazing. Limerick – favored by the locals – was ahead at halftime, when we left. By the time we got to Beaufort, they’d won. The game is fun enough I hope we can find it on TV at home.
Beaufort’s where we’re at for the rest of the week. There’s a castle on the grounds that will see my mom’s 2nd 90th birthday party tomorrow. We’ve learned of the Dunlap Gap, Danny Man, and Tomies Wood, so should have plenty of activities to accompany our drinking. Éirinn go Brách!
I swore several months go I’d blog no more about Mr. Corona, the “pandemic” behind us and figuring the annoying umpteenth generation variants of SARS-COV-2 as mere cold/flu agents. Hardly worth any attention, let alone a mask, vaxx, lockdown, or quarantine. But info trickles out about how things really turned out that deserves commentary. Released Friday were British data about deaths from COVID according to vaccination status. The bar graphs need no explanation. Read ’em and weep.
My pharmacist sister asked me at dinner why an intelligent man like me never got vaccinated. I told her that in addition to nearly 50 years in medicine, I have a masters in microbiology and research experience in 4 virology labs, understood what was going on, and chose not to participate. She left the room. I don’t think that even graphs like these would affect the likes of her, who drank the Kool-Aid long ago.
So, to those of you wise enough to have avoided the jab: prosit!
*PS. My U of M just selected a new President, Dr. Ono. Oh-no! At least his first name is Santa. The faculty with have their stockings hung by the chimney with care.
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