Easty On A Bonney

Clint Eastwood with Tish Sterling resting from a chase scene on a 650 TR6 in 1968's Coogan's Bluff. The tale of an Arizona cop sent to NYC to bring back a bad dude played by Don Stroud (who also gets some reel time astride a 500cc, T100R, Triumph Daytona). This film was also the inspiration for 1970's McCloud with Dennis Weaver which I absolutely dug the absolute crap out of right up there with Rock Hudson, Susan Saint James and Nancy Walker in
McMillan and Wife.

Coogan's Bluff is in New York City and is the name of a cliff off a hillside somewhere around 155th street.

Photo: dailymail.co.uk and imdb.com

Driven Too Far By His Own Hot Blood

Marlon Brando leaning on what might be a Triumph 650 Thunderbird in 1954s The Wild One. Sporting the Schott Perfecto One Star as t-shirt. With his policeman-like hat cocked to one side, someone might've suggested something to Marlon about rolling the pant legs down a bit but that might have been risking a swift, square toed engineer's boot to the arse or a shiv through the ribs.
This kicks off a brief, shirttail, motorscooter retrospective.

Photo: Everywhere

JC's Got That Swing

The other JC as he holds court from his throne during this pre Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson's, Johnny Carson Show.

Photo: Life

The Real Old Fashion Days

A fetching photo (minus the scrawled city pendant) of what looks like Main street looking east in bustling, downtown Fremont. Anybody out there have a guess what year this is and how you might tell? I'm good for maybe 20 years either way but I'm going with 1900.

Forgive Me Father For I Have Eaten...A Lot

I could have this all wrong.
Not necessarily a great way to start out I know. But this way I kinda cover my ass. Does the name Spatafore ring a bell? They were Roy's mother and father in-law. You remember Roy, the 8th grade biology teacher? A one time Motor City weightlifter crowned, Mr. Detroit.
Well the Spatafores owned the local sugar based gold mine downtown known as Caruso's. The town was already blessed with a Tastee Freez, a Frosty Freeze, an IGA, a Kroger's, a Hometown Super Market, a Mini-Mart and Bultman's Thriftway. Not to mention a Ben Franklin that already had a pretty killer candy section in it's own right. But this Caruso's, this, was the real deal.

Serious home made chocolate peanut clusters and sea foam, red and black licorice and other stuff that I probably didn't like so it probably won't get mentioned. And one of those light green, porcelain milk shake blenders that fit at least 2 or 3 stainless steel, milk shake containers. And when they poured the shake out into a tall, v-shaped glass, there was always some left that didn't quite make it into your glass and you wondered just who the hell that was going to end up with that.

This couple, the Spatafore's, didn't seem to be made up of any of the elements that make up sunshine, or anything even remotely warm...or fuzzy. Mr S. was a big guy. Six-two or better and, well, just big. And the only thing worse than a grumpy guy is a big grumpy guy. And Mrs.S., she wasn't exactly winning any PTA awards either. As a matter of fact, I cannot remember either one of them uttering a word. They seemed to communicate with their eyebrows which, in themselves, were quite significant and nimble.

About the time incense and rolling papers started making their way into our very humble, non yet side burned, very Christian Reformed little hamlet, Caruso's was also on a path toward change. A path that lead straight through our hearts like a blackened arrow. This path toward this thing that will change the way we eat for the rest of our lives. This thing...this thing called...pizza-by-the-slice.

And A Fine Night It Was

Saturday night, steak fry night is enough to get even the most surly of Moose members off their patooties and in to town. And I'd like to personally thank Doug Nadeau, whom I'd never met before, but I'm pretty sure his name is Doug, for all his kind words. Roxanne and Bob, great to see you both. Dody Rottman-Miller, havent seen you at a gig since like, Sneakers. Rodney, husband to Roxanne, thank you for bringing me up to speed on life since I saw you at the EZ Mart about 2 weeks ago. Kenney, havent seen you since ZZ Top. Thank you, your woman and whats his name Smith for making the trip and hanging all night. Kathe and Marge, thanks for staying. Kyle, Dannie, Mike and Darlene thank you. Brad, Vicky, your daughter, Warren and your wife who is Sherry Thompson's sister, Jim and Melissa Graham, Ted and Sue Splitstone, Jan and Katy, Dennis-Mitch's cousin and your wife, Jerry Westbrook and Lisa, Dave Salada, andTrish and Cliff. And a special thank you goes out to Kathy With A K, bless her heart for babysitting 2 out of 3 grandkids that night, whoa! I apologize if I've misspelled, omitted or just plain go it wrong. It was nice to see you all
Oh, and by the way, thank you Gerg, Mitch and Jack for remembering any of the chops we may have had, wished we had or lied about and said we had.




Photos of Mitch taken without written consent.
(it might bode well for the photographer to hit the sauce a bit just before he wields the camera to steady those shaky hands)(could it be the other way around)?

South Of Bakersfield And North Of Heartache: The Palomino Club

On a street in the San Fernando Valley, east of the 405 and west of Burbank sat a 1400 square foot dance floor attached to a bar, a grill and a stage called The Palomino Club.
This rough and tumble country and western music joint opened in the early 50s and saw all your top dollar acts like; Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee sashay through it's saloon doors.
The Flying Burrito Brothers, Elvis Costello and the Plimsouls all made live recordings there as well as the bar serving as a back drop for a few films with Clint Eastwood and Burt Reynolds.

The club opened at 6am to allow the Valley's 3rd shifters their happy hour and stayed open through afternoon sound checks so regulars and fans could not only watch rehearsals for free but to also take part in impromptu meet and greets.

Through the 80s until closing in '95, you could watch Merle Haggard bump into Lone Justice who'd trip over Dwight Yoakam who was joking around with Neil Young while Neil was showing off the finer points of his tour bus to the Meat Puppets.

Photo of a scene from Every Which Way But Loose.Borrowed from dearoldhollywood.blogspot
Content from thecountryclassics.com

Of Elephants And Camels

I may have posted this undated photo before, or at least one that is similar. Looks like turn of the century, Main Street Fremont when Main Street was a dirt road. If this was, at the time, the town's annual summer parade celebration, I don't think they were calling it Old Fashion Days. But I like that this was once what my hometown looked like.