Kevin Midgley: News

I will be playing live on WMPG twice this week for those of you with radios or computers with streaming capabilities. Around 6 PM Weds. Nov. 19 I will be on the Evening Sun Show with Myron Samuels. Myron will assist on harmonica, and grill me about what periodicals I read and give me a pop geography quiz. Second show will be Friday Nov. 21st in the AM on Chris Darling's Us Folk. Scheduled lift off will be 8:40 AM. Rumor has it that Chris serves fresh pastries and champagne to guests. I'll bring my ice bucket. On your FM dial WMPG is at 90.9 or 104.1 FM. Go to WMPG.org to listen in over the web.

This is a house party event with two bands: Poor Valley Salvation Society and the Small Orchestra. Seating is limited, so you may want to bring some portable chairs. BYOB and $5.00 to go toward the band stylist and Nieman-Marcus stage clothes. Check out Poor Valley's myspace and host Jay York's website. Used to live in the now empty basement of the church. Allyson and I were unemployed most of the summer. The Belair broke down. Nothing like a vacant lot in Portland in the summer. We lived off of pasta salad and Gordon's gin, watched the sun set over the junkyard and Back Bay. The neighbors were a trip. Showtime 8:00 PM Saturday, Nov. 22.

The Small Orchestra took stage for the second time in its fabled career in front of a small, but enthusiastic, and damp crowd at Yarmouth's Clam Festival. (If you don't know the Clam Festival you will have to look elsewhere for coverage.) The fact that there were farm animals in attendance only adds to the evening's charm. A grueling one hour set of music involving fierce drumming, flaming harmonicas, and the emotional breakdown of Mr. Midgley were left undocumented by the mainstream media. The Small Orchestra's band strategist vowed that the band would return after yet another management shake up. While some members of the band bowed out early thereby safely negotiating a road block, others opted not to go home at all. Thus, along with members of the Mutineers, who wish to remain unidentified, the remaining musicians practiced the beverage equivalent of what the lumber industry calls clear cutting. Many songs were sung, much sleep lost. The moon came out from behind the clouds even as things got cloudy. Amen

It would appear that spring is happening. The yard is full of grackles and redwings, and we actually heard peepers last night. The Rest-O-Bar is going through a metamorphosis. Rumor is it will be open within a week, featuring a few menu items from the past, and Granny's Burritos. I don't know what the music scene will be about there, so we're taking it on the road. Somewhat. Check it out though, bad pennies turn up. Keep an eye on the calendar to see where we're playing.

OK so the wall on the border stops at Hunt's property line - that's what a $350,000 donation to the Republican party gets you - at the same time the "Department of Homeland Security" is waving environmental standards to go through wildlife sensitive areas. Excellent job Chertoff. Medal of Freedom is in the mail.

Seriously - a wall? between the US and Mexico? National IDs? Yes we are the richest nation in the world, so now we are going to be the first "gated" nation in history. Well, it's a race between us and Israel. No Mr. Hernandez you can't come in. Mr. Jones, remember the gates lock at 9. Don't be out after curfew. Maybe we should spend the ridiculous amount of money we are going to spend on that wall investing in some south of the border businesses that would pay decent wages so folks wouldn't have to come here to support their families. (Do you really think people want to leave their homes unless they are desperate?) OK national ID? The people who need IDs to go back and forth are the criminals who crisscross the globe brokering corporate rip offs, weapons sales, starting wars, and stealing other countries' natural resources. Oh shit! those are the guys who want us to have IDs. Terrorists who know how to fly commercial airliners can probably handle the ID thing. Jackasses are making the decisions for us. Greedy, power hungry jackasses.

How can you appear on the radio? Doesn't make sense. I will be live on WMPG Weds Jan. 16th at about 6 PM with host Myron Samuels in advance of a set at the Dogfish Bar and Grill's open mic series. We'll spin some tunes and play some live music. Could be a pre-show cocktail hour for those of you going out, or maybe just some live music during the dinner hour. You can catch WMPG by going to wmpg.org and picking up the stream if you are not in the signal area. You can also call the station at (207)780-4909.

Seems like a lot of folks nearby have checked out recently. One minute they are there, either making you laugh or pissing you off, and then next you are asking yourself "Is that a life?" or "What is a life?" Oh yeah...the mystery of existence. What went before, what happens later? The good stuff. You can only hold on to it for so long, unless you're a philosopher, then it's back to lovin', drinkin', and cursin' the powers that be until somebody checks in or out . Then you stop in your tracks and start thinking real hard again. The deacon's dad, the reverend's mother-in-law and so many others give us pause to ponder, at the very least, what the hell is happening and where we are on our journey. Amen

Check the links out for a little video that Chris Darling posted from a booksigning for the Steve Goodman bio by Clay Eals a few weeks back at Longfellow Books in Portland. The book clocks in at 800 pgs. with a CD of tributes to Steve Goodman. I chimed in with Mutineers Stuart MacDonald and Jeff Trippe on a Hank Williams tune. Many thanks to Chris for thinking of us and to Longfellow Books for the refreshments and opportunity to play. (Cool bookstore.) After the evening's events the musicians were in agreement that Clay owes us a copy of that book - we're musicians: we buy beer not books!

Yet another local Yarmouth business bites the dust. Haggerty's is gone due to their being unable to meet a hood code. The insurance companies are the entities that put spark to a violation unknown to the lessee and the landlords. It would appear that neither the renter nor the owner were willing (or able) to "invest" in the upgrade. But wait! The for lease sign says, "Restaurant/Retail space". BUYER BEWARE! You are entering the Yarmouth Business District.

It feels like July: the trees are waving around like a scene from a Ray Bradbury novel. It's 9:30 pm and there is a severe thunderstorm warning in effect. The damned sodium vapor lights are casting an orange pall over the brand new leaves. The splash company - an outfit that trucks water around to fill folks swimming pools (that seems like an only in America thing: "I NEED MY POOL FILLED, AND FAST!") Fellas, have you ever seen the back of one of these tankers? An artist, of the truck painting ilk has portrayed a bikini clad bathing beauty, poolside - a wonder to behold, especially on a truck. I live on a dead end street, so when a large vehicle goes by it creates a lot of excitement. Who has a pool? Where the hell does he think he's going? etc. I'm out cutting the grass and I here the splash truck coming. Truck like that takes up a quarter of the street. Goes by. I think, he's got no place to turn around, he's gonna have to back all the way out. That will suck. Sure enough, I hear the reverse beeper, and man, he doesn't flinch, all the way back to town hall parking lot (across from my house) where he can turn around. What does he do? He pulls out and proceeds to head back down where he came from in reverse! Got to be one of the most exciting Saturday afternoons in quite a while. I guess he couldn't reach the pool in forward. He wasn't there too long and left. He just came back. Did he fill the wrong pool? somebody's basement? or just miss completely? So I'm scratching my head about all this, waiting for some nickel size hail to scream through with 60 MPH gusts. That will make for a really exciting Saturday. We get hail once a year maybe. Nickel size? We'll be talking about that at work Monday morning.

Chicky's Fine Diner, sadly, has closed it's doors...we hardly knew ye. These are the times that try musicians' souls. There are few spots where staff and patrons somehow manage to share interest and temperment and thus create a comfortable vibe where musicians can shine at their craft. Thanks for the gigs and the whiskey boys!

We will be playing at 10 PM Saturday night at Geno's, featuring a couple of drummers, possibly a couple of harmonica players, and me. We shall see what that sounds like! Lots of rootsy music from 9 PM on until last call. Saturday April 21st. If you've never experienced Geno's now is your moment - dress casual - spray down last weeks laundry with some febreeze, and extract your favorite ensemble and head on out...Hey check out the Rest-O-Bar on your way!

It was so windy today I saw a reconditioned Hum-Vee blow off the back of a trailer. Fella grabbed one of the tie downs and tied it off on a guard rail by the airport. Kind of like a box kite - they don't really look like they belong up there. The control tower notified the authorities who sent some fighters from the Naval Air base to blow it out of the sky. I found that to be ironic. Some people can't see the humor in that. At least nobody got hurt. What a mess though - because it was so windy all the pieces just went everywhere. What the hell were they thinking? Some kind of anchor would have made more sense. Well, well, well you ought to come by the Rest-O-Bar. It'd be good to see ya.

Slap in the Face - that's March fuh ya. We keep on thinking spring, more light - talk to a farmer - frozen pipes, depleted woodpile. It's 0° for Chrissakes! Anyways come out and rub elbows with the rest of the human race this Sunday in Yarmouth at Haggerty's Cafe, right theah on Main St. from 10 til noon or so. We'll see some of yous at the Thursday evening services!

If you haven't come over to the Rest-O-Bar you should quit your job, check yourself out of rehab, and spend down your life savings. Some friends old, and very old, have made it to the big city version of Thursday night ch__ch, and you can too. This event is still in flux spiritually speaking...it doesn't seem to have as many desperate acts of contrition and repentence, followed by backsliding as the other locales. But things change, and the more thay change, the more different they are. The spy network has informed us that Mr. Conway has made it to the Pacific coast, following in the footsteps of many a drunken sailor. If he's not back on Thursday I'll have to replace him - I can't continue to fight off the legions of apparently unemployed harmonica players in the area. I've given up being good for Lent. If it works out, I'll make it permanent. I've tried it before, but never with God on my side.

Well, for those of you who have been wandering in the desert, or dessert as the case may be, your 286 days of waiting are over - Uncle Billy's Rest-O-Bar is officially open. The exact address is still a mystery, however it is located deep in the liver of the arts district. Thursday night church WILL convene as of January 18th and continue until bureaucratic interference or the end of time, whichever comes first. Mr. Conway and Mr. Midgley will appear out of a cloud of street level exhaust (that looks like Jesus) and pick up exactly, to the measure, where they left off those many months ago. (As a side note, the streets of Yarmouth have never been more barren. Buying a bottle of wine and a trendy (albeit delicious) take out meal for $60.00 and going home to watch Democracy Now! is not quite the same as being driven to the BBQ like a wild animal by the smell of smoke and the promise of a soothing cocktail or two.) Diagonally across from the Video XXXpress, sandwiched between Joe's Smoke Shop and Geno's (formerly the "Fine Arts Cinema") the Rest-O-Bar will bring to Portland some dearly needed funk and normalcy. Across the street at Blue, Sugar Smallhouse holds his own court on Thursday nights. Mark my words: these two musical systems acting, reacting, swirling in a cosmic ballet, spinning billions and billions of blue notes, will act like binary stars drawing in heavenly bodies and astral debris at at ever increasing rate, condensing into the heaviest sound Portland has ever heard, bursting like twin super nova over Cumberland County. Amen.

Rumors of a new Uncle Billy's are in fact true. Location on Congress St. in Portland, near Joe's Smoke Shop. The actual address of the building is unknown even to the city and there is some concern about the strange markings on the basement floor. Jay and I dropped in for a visit and were almost sucked into the apocalyptic maelstrom at the creative vortex of an Uncle Billy's Production. Escher staircases, dripping water, echoing laughter from an unknown source, red atmosphere, a birth canal built from framing lumber, smoke and the dreams of damaged men. What rude beast shall issue forth? Stay tuned...

Purest gray dust on the leaves down that dirt road. There´s that one striped maple sapling with one leaf that is waving in the stillness like a Southern belle´s fan. It´s noon, dead air and that one leaf is all that´s moving. Cicadas, motorcycles out on the highway, prop plane overhead, lawnmower coming from that house that´s built into the hillside there, but it´s awful quiet anyways. Here it comes: a formerly shiny black SUV with a pair of kayaks strapped to the top, two adult and two children´s bikes hanging off the back, four humans in their air conditioned bubble. They have no idea where they are, and they are too tired as they pass through heaven to see the angels, the tattered farmsteads, Jesus on the right hand of God, Mary on the front lawn. The kids are watching Disney on the DVD and they miss the plot of graves on the hillside, spookier in the noonday sun than anything the studio boss could have dreamed up. Mom and dad are too busy arguing about the wrong left or right to notice that one leaf waving by the roadside, the only visible sign pointing them away from the E on the fuel gauge. A broad-winged hawk rides a thermal. If they had the windows down, they would have heard the blues, around that big bend in the river that they didn´t allow themselves to see or smell. They could have stopped and asked those dozen or so strangers who were fishing for lost souls, "Which way do we go?"

This is quite possibly the perfect moment of the year. It does have that telltale bittersweet turning the corner feeling, that hurts a little, but the world is overrich in its natural beauty, in this neck of the woods. The crickets and cicadas have begun their drum marching; waxwings have drifted back to where the ripe fruit is; yellow jackets raiding meat from the BBQ table. Stripers, blues, mackeral are running, corn and tomatoes are at the farmstands. Our big willow trees have the look of some wispy Mediterranean coast and the world sighs a big deep sigh before the change begins in earnest. There's lots of people music here. Come on down the road a piece and say hello.

Kevin & Jay will be at Buck's Naked BBQ Thurs. Aug. 3 8:00 -?, hosting the Thursday Open Mike Event. Come down, participate. Where have you been?