JSngry

Tina Turner Tina Louise Tina Fey

Jim Hogg Ima Hogg Ura Zelda

No doubt, but I like an owner who in some form or fashion prevents bullshit that contributes to losing rather than encouraging it, and Cuban is not that.

Right here... I've evolved, incrementally, from being a big Cuban fan to not digging him at all. The way he allowed - and then for all intents and purposes rewarded - the players for their de facto backstabbing of Avery Johnson should be viewed as one of the greatest acts of ownership chickenshit in the history of professional sports. Ultimately, he's Jerry Jones with high-grade internet skills and a little less greed.

Up for all the deep Elvis fans, of whom I know we have many here.

Here's your chance to look around what's left of the 271 scene. Just know that all that nothing used to be something. Google "1936 South Tyler Street, Gladewater, TX" go to street view, and dig around. Gladwater will be up the road to the right.

I wonder what "Gladewater highway" he's referring to - 271 (connects to Tyler) or 135 (connects to Kilgore). Both were heavily-laden with ramshackle joints that had enough room to drink beer and at least hear some music. And don't think that the beer selection would have been more varied than the music selection...tried and true favorites on all counts. You didn't go to these places to be surprised... What kept them going for so long was easy - they all existed literally just on the other side of the city limits sign. In the limits, you could sell beer only until 9. Outside, you could sell beer and liquor until midnight (or 2 AM if the business was there). For years, the good people of Gladewater tried to get their government to expand the city limits, but somehow (ahem...) the votes were never there. Finally, in the early-mid 70s they were able to annex a few feet at a time, until finally they had surrounded all the tonks, which then, of course, hung on bravely for as long as they could. But by then, everybody went to Longview anyway. Only losers of the worst kind wanted to hang out every night in a lonely, crumbling joint getting knocked out on cheap beer within the city limits... Some tried to convert to diners/restaurants, but that ground is haunted by the ghosts of honky tonks past. The lone memorial to days of yore is the one liquor store that has always been there (RBs) and is still there and still doing buisness. The joints on 271 were visible, but 135...that was where you could go off the main roads (and sometimes off the road) and find a joint...but that's another story... In the meantime (and back to Elvis in East Texas), this gig fascinates me: http://www.elvis.net/live/liv55.html This is what's left of Bear Stadium today: What you can't really tell from that photo is that there is no flat land on any side of that place. There's a steep hill to the right which is where the (now old) high school is. To the left there's Highway 80 heading downhill towards Big Sandy, in the back there's nothing but a steep drop, and in front there's a little street with a a few homes + Highway 80 heading uphill towards Longview. Throw in bleachers on both sides of the field and aconcession stand (still the best Frito Pie in the history of the world) just inside and to the left, and you got some possibly...sensitive logistics involved in getting a big hayride-sized flatbed truck off the street and into that place. And fwiw, my Uncle Vernon swears that he saw Elvis at one of the high school gigs. I've no reason to doubt him. It was Gladewater High School, and Vernon was a student there then, as was his older brother Jake (RIP) who, knowing him, probably took a girl to the same show and then went off afterwards and scored with her.

If I ever want one bad enough to pay that kind of buckage for it, it will be as an object.

Should've been more specific...I meant a photo of a 1920s baseball player.

...a lot of this is about my hometown, Gladewater, Tx. http://lannymedlin.phanfare.com/slideshow.aspx?s=0&username=lannymedlin&a_id=2148148&s_id=2310698 The Lee apartment building pictured, former home of KSIJ studios, is literally a three minute walk up the street from the house we moved to in 1967. And I played in an R&B band in the summer of 1975 that played in one of the mentioned-but-not-pictured honky tonks on Highway 271. By then, the highway was integrated, although the tonks were not. Never did go to the Reo Palm Isle, though, and not just because I didn't then appreciate the hard hardcore country they booked (then). Even if I did, the way I looked would have guaranteed a serious asskicking, no questions asked. Now, if somebody can do a similar presentation about Reba's Moulin Rouge (also in Gladewater) where James Brown and countless other R&B acts played in the 50s and early 1960s, then the whole story can be told, or at least one part of it. Ah, roots!

My feelings about the Yankees in general right now are no secret, but I always liked Pettite, and still do. Great player, class act, and oh by the way, am I alone in thinking that when he was a much younger player he would have looked great, definitive even, in one of those 1920s-era photographs?

I was going to be a wiseguy & post an image of a stick of butter, but learning that she suffered from mental instability, possibly exacerbated by that scene and/or its fallout changed my mind. Sex is beautiful, and crazyass sex is even more beautiful, but only sometimes and for/with some people. The whole "no limits" thing eventually hits the wall of bullshit, sooner or later. RIP, with the emphasis, hopefully, on Peace.

That Qwest CD is the shazzitt.

The still-icy roads in the metroplex remain all but untouched by road crews - except in JerryWorld.

Dippin' is the greatest ever.

Think I'll pick this one up, I'll probably learn a bunch of stuff. Thanks for the tip!

I reached out to her during "the incident" and in all honesty found her to be a very nice, intelligent, and reasonable person. She, probably better than anybody, is fully aware of - and readily acknowledges - her father's "complexities", having lived them rather than just reading about them or hearing about them secondhand. The story which started the whole imbroglio was indeed anecdotal, and related an incident that would horrify anybody about whose parent it was said. It's not like she hates her dad - quite the contrary. And she's heard - and lived - plenty of unpleasantness that she knows to be true. But she's also got good memories too. Like I said, she loved her dad, warts and all. I'm only bringing this up because, although there are plenty of oversensitive, hyper-protective, perpetually-in-denial jazz offspring (and parents, for that matter...), Stan Getz' daughter certainly does not appear to be one of them.

I'm tempted....that is so cool...

I bought the album in 1971, so...

You can't really tell it from that scan, but the photo looks like it was shot off of a TV broadcast.

This is the cover of the one I bought - at a Firestone store!

Yep.

Are these the same people that did the DIW label?

Interesting. Does Mr. Merlin turn up anywhere else? I'd like to read what else he has to say, because what he wrote about Miles' use of "coded phrases" to guide and transition the band was totally spot on.