Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

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09
Oct 23

Fall down go boom – plus some truly special Queen

Heads up: There’s a bloody leg at the bottom of this post, and I’m not talking about the British expletive attributive. I’m saying there’s a photo of a leg with a bit of blood on it. It’s in black and white, but there’s no mistaking what is going on there. Just so you know.

Saturday was slow. Luxuriously slow. We sat around and watched football, shaking off shot side effects. I checked my email two times too many. My lovely bride took a nap. (She dislikes naps on a fundamental level, so this is indicative of the speed of the day.)

Late on Sunday afternoon, as a break from housework and school work, I proposed a casual little bike ride. We stood over our bikes in the driveway and I said Where would you like to go?

She said, “No, no. You’re idea. Your route.”

So I thought we’d do the square route. But I realized that there isn’t a lot of opportunity to ride and talk on those particular roads. So I selected another series of quieter roads. The point being to just be outside and enjoying the opportunity to have a little ride without bigger goals. To pedal and not pant.

We went, then, through corn fields and across three intersections. After that the road ends. We turned right and went down a nice little hill, around a curve and to another intersection, where we turned left.

(Incidentally, I updated the art on the front page of the site with 10 new photos. The above photo is a clue.)

At that left-turn is a quite little intersection. The National Guard has a facility there. There’s a farm. And another building a small fertilizer concern, that has pearls of wisdom painted up near the roof. This was the second time I’ve been by there, and so we went by slowly, trying to read them all. There are, I think, a few I missed. One day I’ll have to stop and take photos of them all, because I’m sure there’s something important for me to learn in those old faded sayings.

A bit before that I had decided that I would ride us by a few houses that have had an explosion of Halloween decorations. There are at least two of them on this little soft-pedal I planned out, and here’s one now, just there to the left.

A little boy runs into the road. Probably five.

“There’s a party going on and you’re invited!”

He’d come from the direction of the Halloween yard. I looked to him, watching where he’s moving, maybe I said something to him, I don’t recall. I looked back up and there’s my wife’s bike, a half-second away from me riding into it.

When you touch wheels on bikes, you’re going to crash, and that’s what I did. Fell to my right, foolishly putting my hand down to try to catch myself before I rolled into it.

The kid ran off to get his folks, yelling about this guy that’s crashed. My lovely bride stayed up right and she wheeled around. Probably apologizing before she’s even seen me. I was flat on my back. Bike still between my legs.

She said “Are you OK? What can I do?” I’ve been listening to the little boy running off to get his folks. And before I’d even opened my eyes, as I waited for all of the parts of my body to report in with pain, I said Stop that.

When I opened my eyes I was laying opposite the direction of my travel. Still not sure how that happened. But I’d pointed in the right direction that the boy had run. His family must now be outside because she’s saying to them, in her really reassuring tone, “He’s fine. It’s OK.” I wasn’t sure, yet, if I was, but that was nice and encouraging.

This is a residential neighborhood, but there is still the occasional car, so the first thing I noticed when I stood up was this guy standing around me with his arms out wide, blocking off an oncoming car. Someone moved my bike out of the road and there’s a truck where a guy has stopped to offer help. But all I need are a few bandages. First thing I noticed was that my left index finger hurt, and it was bleeding, right on the tip. Second thing was a bit of road rash on the outside of my right calf, which is the direction I’d fallen.

How did I cut my finger, anyway? We’ll never know. We’ll also never know how I scraped my right forearm, a little, but it never hurt. Not like my left finger, or my right wrist, which I put out to catch myself. I tentatively peeled back my right glove to see what I’d done there, but the glove did it’s job. It looked like I’d have a wicked bruise in my hand, but no abrasions. (Today, my palm was just fine.)

My left finger and right leg, then. And also my right wrist, which I immediately diagnosed as the mildest sprain ever.

These nice people quickly retrieved their tub of first aid stuff — like they keep it by the front door or something; this mom was so well prepared, you could tell her boy is the rambunctious sort, even if he was being shy. He’s sprinted back out with an antiseptic spray and I doused my index finger. I took two Batman Band-Aids to cover the thing. Someone else drove by offering to take my bike wherever. My lovely bride had already volunteered to go back to the house for the car. We were only about three miles away at that point. But I said none of that is necessary. This is the silliest slow-speed crash in the world and none of it is as bad as it looks. My leg looks pretty awesome though, right?

We rode back to the house. She stayed behind me, keeping a careful eye, I’m sure, making certain that I didn’t run into anyone. I wound up riding part of the way back with puppy paws so I didn’t have to hold the handlebars with my aching wrist. This is funny because my bike is a little short on me and that’s hilariously obvious when I try to ride in that position.

The shower was fun. Clean and grimace and dab. Clean and grimace and dab. Keep your spirits up and dab. We have some special first aid bandage stuff for road rash that works incredibly well, so I’m wearing that now. The best news is that I wasn’t even sore this morning, except for how I managed to sleep on both that leg and wrist.

Today, while doing class prep, I found myself rubbing my eye. My right wrist popped and it felt immediately better. Not perfect, but a lot better. So I took off the wrist brace and I haven’t worn it since. (Fortunately, we have three varieties of wrist braces in our personal health care stores … )

The biggest problem is that the Band-Aids are limiting the use of my left index finger. If you see any typos in this post, that’s probably because I am typing with six or seven fingers instead of the usual seven or eight.

I should have thought up that excuse years ago.

Tomorrow, I’ll go put a thank you card in those nice people’s mailbox. I’m going to go buy some super hero Band-Aids to put in there, too, to make up for the two they gave me.

I think I’ll ride my bike over to do it.

Back to last Wednesday’s Queen + Adam Lambert show. This was a fun concert. Had a great time. All of the YouTube commenters are jealous that they weren’t there to see the North American debut of the tour. And the more I think back on it the more little bits of it I enjoyed.

Except this part. The crowd let me down. I wanted to be a part of a moment like the end of the utterly classic George Michael performance at the Freddie Mercury tribute show, but this crowd, while good, was not up for that.

“Somebody to Love” peaked at 13 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and made it to the nine spot on the Cash Box Top 100 in its original 1970s run. The version with Michael reached No. 1 on the UK Singles Chart, and stayed there for three weeks. It’s criminal that it didn’t have that reception in the United States, where it stopped at 30.

All told, this song was Triple platinum in the US, the 2011 version was platinum in the UK, also platinum in Denmark and Italy, and gold in Germany

Since I mentioned it, here’s the version with George Michael fronting the song. It’s a fundamentally perfect live performance. No arguments will be entertained.

The look from Brian May at the end of the song says it all. Speaking of May, this beautiful sequence happened at the show. “Love of My Life” has always been a singalong, but this … Watch the whole thing.

That’s just special. I am so so glad we got to be a part of that.

Catober / photo — Comments Off
09
Oct 23

Catober, Day 9

Catober / photo — Comments Off
08
Oct 23

Catober, Day 8

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07
Oct 23

Catober, Day 7

Friday / music / video — Comments Off
06
Oct 23

Time for some weekend magic

I had one thing on my calendar today, write a letter. That turned into four things. Which isn’t that bad at all really. I managed to get two of them done, which is a shortcoming of some sort, somehow.

It all started with a trip to a pharmacy for flu shots and such. We arrived right on time. The woman that delivered the painful needle had done this before. Not that there is a mystery to the procedure, but amuses me that I can do this at a place where I can also buy Halloween props, passport photos and, right now, take part in “Big Hair Event,” getting $15 off when I spend $60 on select hair care products.

Apparently they also do allergy assessments, and the things you can buy off the shelf now is mind-boggling. Four different varieties of narcotics screening tests. Right there at eye level. Right where a pharmacist can see you reach for it.

“Harold, she took the cocaine test. Jot that down … ”

But you can go here to the side behind this we’re-kidding-ourselves-about privacy curtain and sit in two folding chairs and get your preventative shots. Pick your arm, take your bandage, now have a nice weekend.

I suspect in 10 or 15 years we’ll be doing some of the smaller organ transplants over in the beverage cooler section of the store. We may come to need to explore that model.

Anyway, the lady that stabbed me was fast and practiced and it stung. But she was quick. She was did-you-depress-the-plunger? quick. I’ve since spent the day rubbing my bicep and hoping I don’t get any mild side effects over the weekend.

(Update: No real side effects, except for the arm.)

This afternoon I had to write a letter of recommendation for a former student. I have a good success rate for recommendation letters, but this one was different. Big deal letter. Extra details requests. I’ve been humming the attention to detail mantra all week to students, and so I took my own advice. This is not a note to be dashed off, no. This took time. Multiple drafts. It took almost all afternoon, somehow, and I hope I put all of the sentences in the right order, but that was the biggest thing on today’s list.

A propane guy came out to test a propane tank for us this afternoon, so I had to show him that, and he was kind enough to give me an education. Super nice fellow, he explained everything, patiently sat through my series of simile questions, answering them all again. He ran his test. He said this takes three minutes, but the paperwork takes more than 20. And, sure enough, just under a half hour later he came back. No leaks. Empty tank. And we discussed all the many procedures and this was a productive hour or so, really.

And then I said to him, I said, “You’re in propane. Do you know anything about … grills?”

You see, ours has been on the fritz. I laid this out in just such a way that he couldn’t resist a quick check. We went to the backyard, I dramatically whipped the cover of the grill and he glanced down at the propane bottle we had. Big label from the company on it. Being in the industry, our guy of course knew that company. Different company, but he complemented them. And then he tested out some things on our grill.

Now, a five-burner propane grill isn’t the most sophisticated thing in the world. The problem was that this one worked, right up until the time we moved, and it hasn’t worked since. You can open the valve, but it isn’t making it to the burners. I guess the real problem is I haven’t tried to solve the problem. And, I learned today, you can also smell the propane escaping.

The hose that attaches to the propane bottle is crimped, I learn, so there’s no adjustment there. And it’s crimped on the other side, where it meets the grill. The problem is either the hose in between, or something downstream.

He fiddled with it a bit, taught me a term I’ve already half forgotten, if only because the conditions that bring about the problem were difficult for me to understand. He reached into his belt holster, pulled out the trusty Leatherman and made two small adjustments.

Then we test it. The grill fired right up. He figured it just got jostled too much in the move, but now we can cook with propane. I thanked him most sincerely. It was a small thing, took probably three minutes, but it was a big thing. I invited him back for steaks. We have a grill again. We don’t have to buy a grill again.

I feel well satisfied about the customer service, and i want to purchase propane and propane-related products from his company in the near future.

The other two things I didn’t get to today, well … they’ll be there this weekend.

How about a few more songs from Wednesday night’s Queen + Adam Lambert concert in Baltimore? I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but this was their tour opener in North America. And that is part of why the first videos I uploaded have been enjoying such big success in terms of page views. Queen fans are excited for this tour. And I think they’re going to have a good time.

This is “Killer Queen,” a cabaret-style power pop song that, in 1974, set the tone for everything that was to come for the band.

Let’s stop on that for a moment. This song was released 49 years ago, next week. It reached number two in the UK Singles Chart and number 12 on the Billboard Hot 100, becoming Queen’s first US hit. It still rocks. Lambert gives it a little pep. And, though he’s been singing with the band for a decade now, this is the sort of thing that should win people over if they haven’t already come to appreciate what he can do.

“Killer Queen” was platinum in the U.K. and certified as a double-platinum single in the U.S.

“A Kind of Magic” was the title track of Queen’s 1986 album, and this song was the third single from the project. This is the quasi soundtrack from the first Highlander film, and this song was the closing theme of the movie.

The single reached number three in the UK Singles Chart, creased the top ten across much of Europe, and peaked at 42 on the US Billboard Hot 100. Here’s the Rolling Stone review of the record:

… Dominated by barren slabs of synthscape and guitarist Brian May’s orchestral fretwork, A Kind of Magic sounds like hard rock with a hollow core: it’s heavy plastic.

[…]

The rest of Queen is coasting as well on a high-tech glide. Brian May tosses off virtuoso clichés while drummer Roger Taylor and bassist John Deacon plow through the electronic woofs and tweets. “We Are the Champions,” from 1977, still sounds as insistent as a jackboot compared to this album’s boastful closer, “Princes of the Universe,” which veers into unintentional self-parody. The world-is-my-oyster lyrics seem more lazy than arrogant, and the music is a mechanical thud rather than a metalized threat. This band might as well put some pomp back in its rock. Its members are never going to make it as dignified elder statesmen.

It isn’t their best record, to be sure, but it’s a concept album paired up to a film school student’s script. I mean, a really weird and good movie needed music, so here’s Queen.

The author of that review, Mark Coleman, was in the fifth year of his writing career at that point. Happily, he’s still out there as a working freelance writer. The band is still out there commanding sold out venues. It’s nice to see everyone thriving, almost 40 years on.

I can only wish they’d played my favorite song from that record — not that there was any expectation of that. Even still, it was a great show from some of rock ‘n’ roll’s dignified elder statesmen.