Archive for the ‘Reminiscing’ category

SwanShadow Gives Thanks, Volume 19: Viva Las Vegas Edition

November 25, 2022

By any measure, 2022 has been a year of change and transition at Casa de Swan. Including a wholesale relocation of Casa de Swan. Plus… well… other things.

At the beginning of the year, the Pirate Queen decided that she wanted — borrowing a line from Fleetwood Mac — to go her own way. I decided not to contest, because what would be the point, really? We determined that we would end our partnership as amicably as possible, and I think we accomplished that. For public consumption, I believe that’s enough said.

In the meanwhile, I needed to decide what I was going to do with the rest of my life, and where I was going to do it. As much I would love to move “home” to Hawaii, the land of my earliest childhood memories and the place I consider myself to be “from” as much as I’m “from” anywhere, the economics and logistics just weren’t feasible in the present moment. Nor were the economics favorable to staying put — I could certainly manage it, but on somewhat Spartan terms, and without much to show for it in the end.

I’ve visited Las Vegas at least once a year, and occasionally more than once, for most of the past 20 years or thereabouts. I’ve enjoyed being there as much as I’ve enjoyed being anywhere that isn’t in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. And folks from Hawaii do refer to Vegas as “the ninth island,” because so many kama’aina vacation or relocate there. I ran the numbers, and the finances clicked.

So I loaded up the truck (okay, the professional movers loaded up the truck) and moved to… well, not Beverly — Hills, that is. Still, a place with plenty of swimming pools and more than a few movie stars.

As you doubtless know by now, the drill is that every Thanksgiving I create an A-to-Z list of people and things for which I’m thankful. It’s not intended to be comprehensive; listing everything that gives me cause for gratitude would be an impossibly daunting task. Therefore, I choose 26 items — one for each letter of the alphabet — to represent everything else for which I’m appreciative. In honor of my new home town, this year’s list has a specific and intentional Vegas focus. I am indeed thankful for my new life in this oasis in the high desert, and for the possibilities it offers. Hopefully I’ll continue to feel that way as time moves ahead. To this point, I’m confident that I will.

Before we start, I’m especially thankful for The Daughter and her family, which is due to expand by a second Little Dude early in 2023. One thing that my move to Las Vegas has enabled is a tangible legacy for them, which gives me comfort. I love them more than life itself. And, as odd as it may seem under the circumstances, I’m thankful for the Pirate Queen, and for the years we shared together. I would not be the person, or in the place, I am today were it not for her. I wish her happiness in her new life.

With that overindulgent preamble, let’s get to the list.

On this Thanksgiving weekend in 2022, I’m grateful for…

The Art Houz. It’s a nicely appointed movie theater and venue space in the heart of downtown Las Vegas. The eight cinemas are all comfortable, usually uncrowded places to watch a film. They don’t have an IMAX screen or show 3D prints, which means I have to go elsewhere if I want to see something in one or both of those formats. But that’s a minor quibble.

Bellagio’s Conservatory. The Bellagio Hotel and Casino features a huge themed floral display that changes for each season: spring, summer, fall, Christmas, and Lunar New Year. Each new design is spectacular, and always different. Best of all, it’s open without charge to the public, and photography is encouraged (unlike the philosophy in the casino itself, where snapping off photos — especially with a professional-grade camera — can get you escorted out).

Championships. Both of my professional basketball teams — the NBA’s Golden State Warriors and the WNBA’s Las Vegas Aces — won the championship of their respective leagues this past season. The Warriors, of course, notched their fourth trophy in the past eight years. The Aces, however, not only won their first title, but also brought the city’s first-ever professional sports championship to Las Vegas. One of my first acts upon moving to Las Vegas was becoming an Aces partial-season ticket holder, and it was definitely a winning move; the games are exciting, the level of play is top-notch, and celebrating a team headed for the heights is always fun. The Aces’ starting five — eventual league MVP and Defensive Player of the Year A’ja Wilson; Chelsea “The Point God” Gray (as talented a point guard as anyone in the game who’s not named Steph Curry); three-point demon Kelsey Plum; WNBA Most Improved Player Jackie Young; and either former Sixth Player of the Year Dearica Hamby or workhorse Kiah Stokes — made every outing a blast to watch. I’m looking forward to cheering them on as they defend their title next season.

Department of Motor Vehicles. I know, I know… everyone hates the DMV. But I have to say that every one of my visits to the Sahara Boulevard office of the Nevada DMV went surprisingly smoothly. Sure, there’s a wait even if you have an appointment, but the office is bright and spacious, and all of the staff I dealt with were professional and friendly. Hopefully, I won’t have to go back anytime soon — a Nevada driver’s license is valid for eight years — but if I have such occasion, I won’t dread it the way I always did in California.

Elevators. Mr. Otis does not, in fact, regret.

Free parking. Tourists and locals alike complain about the high cost of self-parking at resorts on The Strip, an amenity that was free for decades but now is increasingly expensive. Get outside the neon corridor, however, and it’s noteworthy that most of the other places you’d want to go in the Vegas Valley don’t charge for car space. I’ll be glad to enjoy one of the perks of my full-season ticket membership with the Aces next season: free parking on game nights in the Mandalay Bay garage.

Gateway Arches. Everyone knows the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign at the south end of The Strip; there’s almost always a lengthy queue of visitors waiting to snap a photo in front of the iconic image. Many visitors don’t realize, though, that this sign is actually more than four miles south of the actual limits of the City of Las Vegas. (I’ll presume that most of you are aware that the so-called Las Vegas Strip is not within the boundaries of Las Vegas, but instead spans two unincorporated areas of Clark County — Paradise and Winchester — south of the city proper.) Recently, the City erected a pair of criss-crossing arches across Las Vegas Boulevard just north of the city limits, near the STRAT Hotel with its ginormous observation tower, with their own sign welcoming guests to the “City of Las Vegas.” There’s also a nearby corner marked by two fifty-foot-tall showgirls that makes a perfect — and rarely crowded — photo opportunity.

Harry Reid International Airport. They haven’t changed all the signage yet, but earlier this year, the State of Nevada renamed the former McCarran International — one of the busiest airports in the nation — after longtime US Senator Harry Reid. Why? Because the airport’s former namesake was a notorious racist, anti-Semite, xenophobe, and McCarthyite. Good riddance to him and his name.

Interstate 15, the main north-south thoroughfare through the Vegas Valley. People drive insanely on it. That’s not the freeway’s fault.

July 4th, which is the day I first arrived in Las Vegas not as a visitor, but as a new resident. I’m sure there’s some irony about me landing here on Independence Day. Or maybe it’s coincidence. They’re easily conflated.

Kroger. As a longtime Safeway customer in California, I was disappointed to discover that my grocery shopping experiences at the chain’s local affiliate, Albertsons, were… disappointing. On the other hand, I have generally enjoyed my visits to Smith’s Food and Drug, a branch of the huge Kroger chain. In particular, the staff at the Smith’s where I usually shop (on Rancho Drive, near Charleston) are always helpful and friendly — so much so that I once pulled a manager aside to compliment them on the attitude of their employees. Also, I find most of the Kroger in-house products to be of good quality and a decent value.

Luv-It Frozen Custard. I’m making it a point to investigate off-the-beaten-path eateries that are touted highly by veteran locals. Some of these prove overrated; others live up to the hype. One that surpasses even the lofty claims made for it is Luv-It, an unassuming frozen custard stand located in a seedy area just off Las Vegas Boulevard south of downtown. The product itself is astonishingly good — handmade, rich, and creamy, they serve it straight-up or in a dizzying variety of sundaes and shakes. But the real hook is the fact that only a couple of flavors (aside from the standard vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry) are available each day. Luv-It publishes a monthly calendar on its website and Facebook page so that you can plan a visit when your favorite is Flavor of the Day, or when there’s a flavor you’d like to try that might become a new favorite. I have yet to try a flavor I didn’t like (the root beer float flavor could use a couple of jolts more root beer in my opinion, but it’s still pretty tasty), and I go out of my way to drive by when either malt creme or butter pecan are on the menu.

Mount Charleston, the tallest peak in the Spring Mountain range that defines the western edge of the Vegas Valley. Snowcapped from autumn until spring (its indigenous name, Nuvagantu, means “where snow sits” in Paiute), 11,916-foot Mount Charleston ranks eighth among the most topographically prominent mountain peaks in the contiguous US. (“Topographically prominent” is how geologists describe a mountain that is notably taller than anything else around it. For reference, Mount Rainier in Washington state is the most topographically prominent peak in the lower 48.) Charleston is definitely the most topographically prominent thing I can see from my living room window.

Neighborhoods. Most visitors never see much of the Las Vegas area outside of the two main tourist corridors, The Strip and Fremont Street. There is, as I’m discovering, far more to the Vegas Valley than those. I’m making it a point one day each week, often on Sunday afternoons, to drive around in an unfamiliar neighborhood just to see what’s there, and what it’s like for the people who call it home. I’m finding Las Vegas and the surrounding area to be a remarkably diverse place. Did you know that Las Vegas is statistically the second-least racially segregated large city in the United States? (Surprisingly, Tucson, Arizona ranks first.)

Oscar Goodman. For many years, he was the most prominent attorney representing the interests of the… um… underworld elements that ran much of Las Vegas back in the day. Now, he’s one of the more colorful symbols tying together Vegas’s mobbed-up past and its megacorporate present and future. Often seen at major events with a classically attired showgirl on either arm, or holding court at his namesake restaurant in the Plaza Hotel downtown, Oscar served three terms as mayor of Las Vegas before term limits forced him to pass the torch to the current office-holder — his wife Carolyn.

Performing arts. One of the draws for me in moving to Las Vegas is that there’s always a show to see. Live music, theater, comedy, and performing arts of every description abound here; there are seemingly endless venues to catch someone doing something entertaining. Among my favorites is the Smith Center for the Performing Arts, a modernized version of a vintage concert hall located right downtown. I saw Kansas at the Smith Center in September, and was seriously impressed by the place.

Queensryche. “Jet City Woman” is a classic. They’re playing Vegas in March. I may go.

Randy’s Donuts. Familiar to Angelenos and filmgoers alike for the iconic doughnut-shaped sign marking its original SoCal location, Randy’s opened a Las Vegas branch this summer. Although they also serve cake doughnuts for customers who lack discerning palates and don’t know any better, Randy’s raised yeasted doughnuts are quite simply the best doughnuts I have ever tasted. I don’t eat doughnuts often, but when I crave one, Randy’s is the spot. I don’t even mind that they don’t know how to spell “doughnuts.”

Seven Magic Mountains. You can see them from the freeway as you drive into the Valley from the south: seven towers made of brightly painted boulders stacked atop one another. You wonder to yourself, “What in the world is that?” So you pull off at the next exit, drive several miles down a deserted two-lane blacktop, and arrive at your destination, a makeshift parking lot in the middle of nowhere. A signboard explains what you’re looking at: an art installation entitled Seven Magic Mountains, created in 2016 by Swiss-born sculptor Ugo Rondinone. Positioned on federal land, the “mountains” (pillars, more accurately) were intended to stand only temporarily. The original two-year contract was extended for another three years in 2018 due to the exhibition’s popularity, and negotiations continue that would allow the sculpture to remain indefinitely.

Tacos El Gordo. Like Luv-It which I mentioned earlier, Tacos El Gordo is one local joint — more accurately, a chain of joints — that more than merits the high praise and lengthy queues it generates. In many decades of taco consumption, I can’t say that I’ve ever eaten superior tacos to those I find at Tacos El Gordo. The ordering set-up is unique: you first decide what kind of meat you want — they have everything from the familiar carne asada and pork adobada to more specialized traditional fare such as beef tongue and pork stomach — then queue up in the line where that meat is being served. When it’s your turn, you tell the cook how you want the meat served; you can get it dished up in tacos, sopes, tostadas, quesadillas, or any of several other preparations. You then take your food to a central counter where you pay, and order a drink if you choose. You are now ready for one of the most sublime culinary experiences of your life. Seriously, if you come to Las Vegas and you don’t dine at Tacos El Gordo at least once, you have cheated yourself. Hot tip: Skip the always-inundated central Strip location, and drive or Uber/Lyft a few miles south to the new branch across from the Town Square mall complex. Same terrific food, but with more seating and far shorter lines.

Utilities. I would not want to imagine living in the desert without the benefit of air conditioning in the summer, and heating in the winter. (This may shock you, but it’s chilly in Las Vegas between November and March, especially after sundown.) So far, I have only positive things to say about our electrical power provider, and only minor quibbles about the company that delivers our TV, internet and wifi connections.

VersaCart. My grocery and household shopping excursions would be far more onerous without the collapsible cart I use to transport my purchases from my car to my condominium. The VersaCart might look dorky, but its carrying capacity is deceptively huge — I have yet to make a grocery run that I couldn’t transfer in a single load — and it operates flawlessly. I frequently get compliments from other residents who want to know where I got mine. (Amazon, for the record.)

Wedding chapels. I can’t swing a cat without hitting a wedding chapel — not that I am (a) literally swinging cats, or (b) attempting to assault wedding chapels. As touristy and tawdry as the tradition of the Vegas wedding is, I have to admit that it always makes me smile to see a dressed-up couple waiting outside a chapel for their turn with the officiant, or departing with beaming faces as they begin a new life (or maybe just a new few months, let’s be honest) together. I guess I’m not quite the misanthrope I imagine myself to be.

Xeriscaping: the art of landscaping for a desert environment. It’s an essential skill in a place where water is at an extreme premium. By the way, if you wonder whether Las Vegas isn’t about to run out of water any second, it may be helpful to know that nearly 98% of the water used as an indoor resource in the Vegas Valley is recycled. If it goes down a drain here, it passes through one of the world’s most efficient reclamation systems to be used again. And most of the water on display in outdoor venues — think the Bellagio fountains, for example — is 100% recycled. Las Vegas is better at reusing water than almost any other metropolis on the planet. We’re doing okay for the time being, thanks.

YouTubers. In the months when I was preparing for the big move, I gleaned a treasure trove of information about Las Vegas from a number of YouTube channels specializing in local news and lore (Las Vegas Advisor, Not Leaving Las Vegas, Jacob’s Life In Vegas, Turn It Up World, Miles to Memories Vegas, Dale McKenzie), real estate data (Las Vegas Gal, The Thomas Group — Christina of The Thomas Group represented me in my home purchase), dining recommendations (All You Can Vegas, Derek and Catherine, Bill and Lisa’s Food and Travel), and entertainment tips (Travel Ruby, Norma Geli). I appreciate all of these hardworking folks for their valuable content, and I hope to be in a position soon to pay at least some of it forward.

Zappos. The Las Vegas-based online footwear and clothing retailer (an Amazon subsidiary since 2009) has contributed a tremendous amount to the community, in particular the downtown district. Zappos HQ currently occupies the building that formerly housed Las Vegas City Hall; the proceeds from the transfer enabled the city to construct a striking new City Hall adjacent to several other city and county government facilities. The Zappos Theater, part of the Planet Hollywood complex, was home to Britney Spears’s lengthy residency; today it hosts country superstar Miranda Lambert among other A-list performers.

As always, friend reader, I am enormously, inexpressibly grateful for you. I know some of you have followed this annual post since its inception, and have supported my other writing projects as well. May the year ahead sustain you in sound health, in good humor, and in peace, and may we all be around to give thanks together again at this time in 2023.

SwanShadow Gives Thanks, Volume 17: Global Pandemic Edition

November 27, 2020

Who knew, right?

Anyone who says that they accurately predicted at last Thanksgiving the worldwide horror the calendar would call 2020 CE is peddling a falsehood. None of us saw this coming. Many understood that a global pandemic like the one that swept the planet exactly a century ago could happen at some time, but no one knew that 2020 would be our COVID-19 annus horribilus.

Too much sickness. Too much death. Too much sheltering in place. And way too much conflict over what to do or not do about it. (Seriously, people: Put a mask on. Don’t crowd up. Stay home as much as possible. It sucks. But sickness and death suck more.)

In times like these, though, it’s even more vital to focus on the people and things we are grateful for — and, in fact, to be grateful in general. It’s easy to let so much darkness obscure what light there is, but when we don’t appreciate the light, however small it seems, darkness wins.

Therefore, as is our long-standing (17 years and counting!) tradition in this tiny corner of the Internet, we present our annual outpouring of thanks on this Thanksgiving weekend. Given that I always have far too much in my life to be grateful for, each year I choose 26 items — one for each letter of the alphabet — to stand in for everyone and everything for which I’m offering thanks this year. It keeps the list to a manageable size, and makes certain that the list actually gets done.

I found it tempting, in the face of all that 2020 has thrown at us, to modify the tone or style of this year’s post. I decided that would defeat its purpose. So, even though there will be some direct allusions to the dreadful realities we’ve dealt with this year, much of the list is as it always is: Random, slightly tongue-in-cheek at times, and with an understanding that the seemingly insignificant items on the list underscore a broader perspective that embraces gratitude as an attitude, for the monumental blessings in life as well as for the minuscule.

With that said, at Thanksgiving time in 2020, I’m thankful for:

Aging rockers. Three of my all-time favorite bands seized the year to deliver brand-new studio albums that compare favorably with the best work from their classic periods: Kansas (The Absence of Presence); Blue Öyster Cult (The Symbol Remains); and most recently, AC/DC (Power Up; or, if you want to get strictly typographical about it, PWR/UP). For BÖC, it was their first album in 19 years; for Kansas, their second with current lead vocalist Ronnie Platt (the previous Platt-era effort, 2016’s The Prelude Implicit, is also quite good); for AC/DC, their first since the passing of co-founder Malcolm Young, and a reunion with members Brian Johnson, Cliff Williams, and Phil Rudd, all of whom had departed for various reasons in recent years. To hear these bands, who all began their recording careers in the 1970s (albeit with markedly different lineups), once again producing outstanding music makes my heart sing, and offers me hope in my own down-slope years that greatness remains possible.

Biden/Harris. I don’t typically do politics in public fora, but I can’t express how thrilled I am that the nightmare of Agent Orange is nearly ended, and that actual human beings will be in charge of the country again. I am particularly ecstatic for all of the barriers that Kamala Harris (on whose Senate campaign I was privileged to voice a few ads) will break when she takes office as Vice President.

Chadwick Boseman. 2020 robbed us all of far too much, including the life of this brilliantly talented actor whose charisma lit up the screen like few others. To think that he gave us not only the personification of T’Challa, the Black Panther, in four Marvel Cinematic Universe films, but also stellar performances in Marshall, 21 Bridges, Da 5 Bloods, and the upcoming Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom without the world — or even most of his colleagues — knowing that he was dying of cancer is nothing short of incredible. Rest in power, King.

Dr. Fauci. A national hero, trying to help Americans wrestle with a terrifying unknown while the Clown-In-Chief keeps tying his arms behind his back and spitting in his face. And he never quit.

Español. One of the projects I’ve used in an attempt to maintain sanity during lockdown has been developing my facility in Spanish using the Duolingo app. At this writing, I’ve managed 177 consecutive days of lessons. I’m not fooling myself into thinking I’ll ever be functionally bilingual, but I’ve pretty much resurrected (and likely exceeded) my two years of high school Spanish, and feel certain that I could ask directions to a bus stop or buy a green suitcase in a Spanish-speaking country if the situation arose.

Frontline workers. I can’t say enough how deeply I appreciate the efforts of everyone who’s kept our society running in the face of the pandemic, and especially those whose work presents them with constant exposure risk. That includes the doctors, nurses, and other healthcare staff caring for the infected (more about them later), but also mail carriers, delivery drivers, restaurant cooks and servers, retail clerks, and everyone else for whom showing up and facing the outbreak every day means the rest of us get the things we need to carry on. Thank you all, and God bless you.

Great British Bake-Off. Or Great British Baking Show, as Netflix calls it here in the States to avoid legal action by the Pillsbury people. It’s a joy to tune in each week to watch Paul Hollywood and Prue Leith put a gaggle of flour-dusted Britons through their paces. I still miss former hosts Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins — and more recently, the delightfully droll Sandi Toksvig — but the thematic elements remain the same, and the contestants always seem pleasant and just thrilled to take part. (At this typing, I haven’t yet watched this season’s finale. Don’t spoil it for me.)

Hawkgirl. A fantastic representation of Shiera Hall (or Shayera Hol, if you prefer it in Thanagarian) by Sideshow Collectibles entered my statue collection this year. My rules for adding a new statue: 1. The character has to already be represented multiple times in my art collection. 2. I have to love the piece the first time I see it. (If I don’t love it immediately, it’s not worth buying.) 3. I have to have room in my office/studio for it. Shiera, despite her considerable wingspan, made the cut.

Inspiron. The Pirate Queen recently allowed me to replace my old, agonizingly slow, keyboard-challenged (the O key kept popping off, and the space occasionally has a mind of its own) studio laptop computer with a new desktop model, accompanied by a gorgeous 27″ monitor. I now hunch and squint far less.

Jim Edgar. I am blessed to name as friends a startling array of wonderful people — possibly including you, if you’re reading this. My buddy Jim stands out for his unfailingly kind, generous, and helpful spirit. Jim has made himself a valued and trusted resource within the voiceover industry through his technical expertise, in addition to his phenomenal talents as an actor. I am constantly impressed with the manner in which Jim goes out of his way to advise, inform, and assist his colleagues (who are often potential competitors as well — it’s a tough business) by openly sharing his insights and experience, and his efforts to build a more harmonious community within the profession. I know numerous fellow actors who inspire me to want to be a better actor. Jim inspires me, whenever I observe or interact with him, to want to be a better person. And I’m not alone in that.

Kids, and Kisses. The K’s represent the people who, beyond all else, make my life worth carrying on. The Kids — The Daughter and The Son-In-Law — uplift my heart every day, just by living their lives and being quality people. I couldn’t ask for better. And, here’s the big news: The Kids are expecting their own kid — the first GrandKid — in the coming year. (It’s rumored to be a boy.) They’re also shopping for their first house. “Kisses” represents the Pirate Queen, who always signs her notes to me in that fashion. She uplifts my heart every day, too.

LionSteel. If you asked me at this very moment, “What’s in your pocket?” the answer would be a blue titanium slipjoint knife from LionSteel in Maniago, Italy. There’s another LionSteel slipjoint on my desk, with olivewood scales. They make some really nice knives in Italy.

Medical personnel. We all owe our gratitude to the medical experts who daily labor in the midst of a worldwide health crisis. This includes not only the physicians, nurses, technicians, caregivers, and others who provide direct treatment to those afflicted by COVID-19, but also all those folks behind the scenes in testing labs, and in research facilities working toward safe and effective vaccines against the disease, and better treatments for dealing with it. Pray that their labors prove fruitful.

Nova lox. I don’t know who the person was who first had the idea to smoke a salmon, but that person deserved a hearty handshake. Probably not from the salmon, though.

Online quiz leagues. If there could be said to be an actual upside from the pandemic, it has been the development of a number of online quiz leagues, at first intended as a stopgap in the absence of in-person pub quizzing, but now taking on a life and purpose of their own. I currently participate in two: Quizzing World Cup, based in the UK and comprising teams and players around the globe, and Online Quiz League USA, an offshoot of the original British OQL with material keyed to a North American audience.

Pentatonix. There is no more expressive musical instrument than the human voice, and not many folks demonstrate that more profoundly than the five members of America’s favorite a cappella quintet. When I feel an anxiety attack coming on, one of my most effective therapies is a Pentatonix playlist in my Sennheiser headphones.

Queen’s Gambit. If you haven’t yet binged this charming Netflix limited series starring Anya Taylor-Joy as a brilliant but troubled young chess wizard in the 1960s, do yourself a favor and check it out. I know what you’re thinking: A TV series about chess has to be about as interesting as watching paint dry. Just remember these wise words of the late Roger Ebert: It’s not what the show is about that matters, but how it is about it.

Rocketbook. What seemed at first like a cool novelty item has become an indispensable part of my daily routine. Rocketbook makes an ever-growing variety of products designed around a common theme: Reusable notes. Instead of an endless stack of paper notepads or Post-Its generating scattered castoffs everywhere (if only you’d seen my desk…), Rocketbook notebooks offer a system of reusable pages that can be written on, scanned and stored (if you’re so inclined), then wiped clean and reused again and again. My favorite Rocketbook model is the Flip, which is designed like a steno pad. I keep one next to me at all times for scribbling down quick ideas, or for recording lists of facts I want to reinforce for quizzing. The equally handy Fusion contains templates for calendar and schedule planning. Writing on the Rocketbook’s plastic pages with erasable ink (the system requires Frixion pens and markers, made by Pilot and readily available everywhere) takes a little getting used to, but I’ve found it worth the effort.

Safeway. In these times when spending time indoors in a crowded store presents a considerable health risk, we’ve come to rely on the online order and pickup service provided by the supermarket giant. It took a bit of trial and error to get the system down smoothly, but now after several months, the store we use does a pretty decent job of filling our orders in a timely fashion. It’s made grocery shopping about as safe as it can be during a pandemic, and reasonably efficient.

Trebek. The last 32 years of my life have been indelibly transformed by my experiences on Jeopardy! My two favorite Alex Trebek memories: 1. Alex confused my name with that of another contestant when I won my quarterfinal match in the 1988 Tournament of Champions. It was nice to see that our unflappable host was fallible and human after all. 2. When I won the 1998 Battle of the Bay Area Brains, Alex went out of his way to spend a few minutes at the afterparty chatting with The Daughter, who was nine years old and had never met a celebrity in person. She still treasures the T-shirt Alex signed for her. Rest in peace, Uncle Alex.

Unemployment benefits. Like millions of Americans, the Pirate Queen was — thankfully, very briefly — out of work for a portion of 2020. She had never before in her working life collected unemployment. Having those benefits did not mean the difference between sustenance and survival for us, but they alleviated the burden of worry for the Pirate Queen as she pursued other options. We are acutely aware that many of our fellow citizens are not so fortunate to have the assets we have. It was an important reminder not to take our means for granted — and to have greater compassion for those who are struggling. And here’s another thing: In a society as wealthy as ours, no one should be in danger of going without food or healthcare or losing their home due to circumstances beyond their control, and no one should have to worry that their unemployment checks will stop coming because the government can’t get its collective act together. We have to do better, America.

Vibranium. I hear there’s a mountain of it in Wakanda. but don’t tell anyone I told you.

Wheat Thins. Delicious with any topping, or with none. Do I even need to explain? I didn’t think so.

Xoloitzcuintli. Pronounce it “show-low-eats-QUEENT-lee,” or simply call it a “Show-Low” for short, as most people who own one do. It’s a (mostly) hairless breed of dog, originally from Mexico. Studio Assistant Tazz looks a little bit like a Show-Low, albeit with a full coat of hair. Then again, he’s 50% Chihuahua, so there might be some common ancestry there somewhere.

YouTubers. Keeping me entertained throughout the long days and nights of COVID sequestering has been a smorgasbord of videos on YouTube, both from content creators (including Pete Pardo, host of Sea of Tranquility and Comic Book Geezers, and Dr. Kat Marchant of Reading the Past, among many others I could name) and from those who post content that would otherwise be unavailable. In the latter category, I’m especially grateful for those who diligently upload daily episodes of quiz shows from the UK and Australia. Viewing and playing along with those programs was critical in my preparation for my online quiz leagues, and for… other things that I can add to my Thanksgiving list next year.

Zoom. The video conferencing service has been a genuine boon in keeping us all connected to the people — whether family and friends, or work collaborators — from whom we are physically distanced by the present distress. It’s not the same as being together, but it’s decidedly better than not seeing others at all.

As always, friend reader, I’m thankful for you, and for your continued visits to this blog. I sincerely hope that you and those you love stay safe and well during this crisis, and that we all have a return to some semblance of normal life — whatever that means — to be grateful for at this time next year.

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Song 1

March 25, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13; songs 12 through 9; songs 8 and 7; songs 6 and 5; song 4; song 3; and song 2.]


1. Kid Charlemagne (The Royal Scam)
Is there gas in the car?
Yes, there’s gas in the car
I think the people down the hall
Know who you are

We’ve counted upward through 64 classic tracks to reach the pinnacle of the Steely Dan catalog. As I’ve said throughout this project, not a single one of these 64 songs sucks. Half or more of them stand among the finest recordings made during the rock era. Any of the final seven or eight that we’ve covered in this ranking could easily merit consideration as Number One. Indeed, among the seemingly infinite iterations of this list that I devised on my path to this point, each of the top seven landed in first place at least once.

So why did “Kid Charlemagne” end up on top?

My glib response: “Two words — Larry Carlton.”

But there’s so much more to it than just that.

“Kid Charlemagne” is, as is generally well known by this late date, based on the activities of a guy named Augustus Owsley Stanley III, nicknamed “The Bear,” who worked as a sound technician for rock bands (most notably, the Grateful Dead) in the 1960s and early 1970s. When not designing and maintaining high-powered audio systems (and, according to legend, co-creating the Dead’s now-familiar skull-and-lightning-bolt logo), Stanley was in his bathroom laboratory cooking up high-powered LSD. He quickly gained renown as a purveyor of quality acid, becoming the preferred provider of same to musicians and other celebrities in the psychedelic scene.

I don’t know whether Donald Fagen and Walter Becker knew Stanley personally, or merely by reputation, but they used his career — specifically, the raid in 1967 that led to Stanley’s two-year imprisonment — as the inspiration for “Kid Charlemagne.” (They weren’t the first, incidentally. The Grateful Dead songs “Alice D. Millionaire” and “Truckin’,” Frank Zappa’s “Who Needs the Peace Corps?,” and Jefferson Airplane’s “Mexico” either allude to or specifically mention Stanley; all four predate “Kid Charlemagne” by several years.)

The narrative of a drug kingpin riding high until it all goes sideways provokes some of Becker and Fagen’s most memorable lyrics:

Did you feel like Jesus? Did you realize that you were a champion in their eyes?

On the hill the stuff was laced with kerosene, but yours was kitchen clean / Everyone stopped to stare at your Technicolor motor home

And of course, perhaps the most quotable Steely Dan couplet of all:

Is there gas in the car? Yes, there’s gas in the car…

It’s stunning storytelling, even from two scribes supremely skilled in weaving wicked tales.

But then, we have to talk about the music. Which means that, yes, we have to talk about Larry Carlton.

Can I say that Carlton’s incredible guitar solo is the greatest guitar solo in the history of recorded rock? I probably wouldn’t go that far — although I’m struggling to come up with all that many better candidates. There is, however, an undeniable genius to Carlton’s effort; a constantly shifting fusillade of jazz chords and progressions that somehow fits perfectly within the context of a rock song — a straight-ahead pop-rocker propelled by a funky, almost quasi-disco undercurrent. And yet, Carlton brings the full weight of his prodigious fusion chops to his solo without it feeling out of place for so much as a single note.

I listened to Carlton’s playing on “Kid Charlemagne” a couple dozen times while preparing to write this essay. Thanks to YouTube, I was even able to listen to it in isolation from the rest of the track. I never got bored of hearing it; with every pass, I heard some nuance or technique that I’d never picked up on before. For example, did you ever notice that Carlton plays the last few notes of his solo by tapping the strings on his guitar’s fretboard, the style that Eddie Van Halen would make famous years later? Sheer brilliance.

Equally brilliant is the way the other musicians line up to support what Carlton is doing. In particular, the rhythm section of Chuck Rainey (bass) and Bernard Purdie (drums) digs into the groove so snugly that you couldn’t pry them out with a crowbar. The electric keyboards — a collaborative effort involving Fagen on organ, Don Grolnick on the Fender Rhodes, and Paul Griffin on clavinet — alternately push forward and swirl underneath, but never get in the way. And Fagen, with stellar support from his cast of backing singers, delivers one of his most gleefully sardonic vocal performances ever.

The result is a quintessentially Steely Dan track that isn’t stereotypical Steely Dan, if that makes sense. “Kid Charlemagne” forms, I believe, the nexus between what Becker and Fagen had been doing from the very beginning — this song fits just fine alongside early Dan numbers like “Reelin’ in the Years” — and what the Dan would morph into from this point forward. It’s an ideal blend of the Dan’s past and its upcoming.

Plus a metric boatload of Larry Carlton.

That’s why “Kid Charlemagne” wins the grand prize trophy for me.

So, that’s it, then. Sixty-four amazing songs, ranked as I hear and feel them. How did your own ranking — I presume you were (at least mentally) doing your own, for the sake of comparison — turn out? What was your #1 in the Steely Dan 64?

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Song 2

March 23, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13; songs 12 through 9; songs 8 and 7; songs 6 and 5; song 4; and song 3.]


2. Deacon Blues (Aja)
You call me a fool
You say it’s a crazy scheme
This one’s for real
I already bought the dream

If music can be described as “glossy,” then “Deacon Blues” is glossy.

It shimmers and shines in a way that almost feels visual, even though the experience itself is entirely auditory.

Perhaps more than any other single track in the Steely Dan catalog — with the possible exception of its album mate, the title tune “Aja” — “Deacon Blues” represents the fullest realization of the Becker/Fagen aesthetic. This is that “thing,” for lack of a more effective word, that the duo had been driving toward since the beginning of their collaboration, and with stronger force since their disassembly of the core band post-Pretzel Logic.

Like “FM,” which it greatly resembles — right down to the Pete Christlieb tenor saxophone solo — “Deacon Blues” feels very much “lived-in” for me personally. The imagery of a man coming to grips with the intangibility of his hopes and dreams resonated powerfully with me when this song first hit my turntable (it was a thing, kids; look it up). The teenage angst of my early college years fit right alongside the midlife-crisis vibe. I listened to “Deacon Blues” frequently during that period — and by “frequently,” I mean several times back-to-back on days when I felt the yearning.

As Steely Dan songs go, “Deacon Blues” feels more transparent and accessible than many. The lyric dances through plenty of Becker and Fagen’s signature obtuse wordplay, but even when the references seem muddled — is “Deacon” a shout-out to the Wake Forest Demon Deacons, or to NFL Hall of Fame defensive end David “Deacon” Jones? (hint: it’s the latter) — the thematic thread is crystal clear. Doubtless, this played some part in the tune’s chart success: it climbed to #19 (there’s that number again) on the Billboard Hot 100, making it the fifth Steely Dan single to hit the Top Twenty.

Part of what makes “Deacon Blues” so compelling for me is the rich musical tapestry over which Fagen and the female backup vocalists (the ineffable trio of Venetta Fields, Clydie King, and Sherlie Matthews once again) weave their story. Longtime Dan sideman Victor Feldman opens the proceedings on electric piano. Three superlative guitarists (Larry Carlton and Lee Ritenour on electric, Dean Parks on acoustic) counterbalance a smooth-as-satin Tom Scott horn chart. Becker on bass and drummer Bernard “Pretty” Purdie lock down an easy-swinging rhythm. It all just melds. Like a perfectly grilled ham and cheese sandwich.

I’ve already mentioned the Pete Christlieb sax solo — at the time of the session, the Bard brothers only knew Christlieb from his work in the house band on the Tonight Show. The veteran jazzman came into the studio and laid down two improvisational runs — a rarity in working with the persnickety Becker and Fagen, who were notorious for demanding endless retakes before finding one acceptable. Christlieb’s second shot is the one that appears on the recording.

So, yeah. I love “Deacon Blues.” Love, love, love “Deacon Blues.”

Why, then, is it #2 in my rankings, and not #1?

Because #1 has many of the same benefits, but it also adds one other key element that makes it an exceptional track.

You already know — assuming you’ve been keeping tally — what #1 is.

We’ll talk about it in our next post.

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Song 3

March 22, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13]; songs 12 through 9; songs 8 and 7; songs 6 and 5; and song 4.]


3. My Old School (Countdown to Ecstasy)
Well, I hear the whistle but I can’t go
I’m gonna take her down to Mexico
She said, “Oh no —
Guadalajara won’t do”

Unlike many songwriters, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen didn’t tend toward autobiography in their collaborative oeuvre. Steely Dan’s songs tend to be more about colorful characters and subversive situations than about the auteurs themselves. Which, at least in my opinion, is probably a good thing. The fact that we don’t come to know Becker and Fagen too intimately is part of what gives their music its mystique.

Having said that, once in a while we do get a glimpse into the personal histories of the boys from Bard College. It happens in “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” and “Barrytown” on Pretzel Logic, and it happens most famously in this cut from the album immediately preceding that. “My Old School” leaves no doubt about the level of affection — or lack thereof — that Walter and Donald felt for their alma mater: “I’m never going back to my old school.”

The song alludes to an incident in which Becker, Fagen, and others got arrested for marijuana possession, thanks to the efforts of a Dutchess County prosecuting attorney who would later go on to much greater infamy in the political world: G. Gordon Liddy, referred to in the lyrics as “Daddy Gee.” We get shout-outs to “Annandale,” a.k.a. Annandale-on-Hudson, the upstate New York town where Bard is located; “the Wolverine,” a passenger train line that stopped in nearby Rhinecliff and serviced students traveling to and from Bard; and the rejected possibility of fleeing from authorities by running off to Guadalajara, Mexico. Seems awfully far, but the arm of the law has a long reach.

“My Old School” makes an entertaining showcase for the original Steely Dan band. Aside from the frequently employed chorus of female backup singers and a four-man horn section added for the occasion, the instrumentation is handled by the five founding members (minus erstwhile singer David Palmer, who’d been jettisoned by this point). Jeff “Skunk” Baxter features most prominently on lead guitar, but for my money, the real stars of the arrangement are the rhythm section. Becker provides some nimble, slyly funky bass lines, while drummer Jim Hodder contributes solid, steady, almost Ringo Starr-like percussion.

Altogether, “My Old School” stands out as both an iconic creation of its time — man, there were a ton of horn-playing rock bands in the early 1970s — and a prophetic statement about the jazzier path Steely Dan would take in the future. At the same time, it’s just a perfectly crafted, flat-out fun pop-rock number that takes us ever so slightly behind the curtain for a peek at the two men behind it. It ranks this highly in my countdown for all of these reasons.

“My Old School” is as fine a piece of work as the original version of the group ever came up with, which is why it’s the only track from the first two Dan albums — the only ones to feature that founding band — in my Top Ten.

Only two tracks remain. By now, you know what they are.

But in what order did they end up?

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Song 4

March 20, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13]; songs 12 through 9; songs 8 and 7; and songs 6 and 5.]

Thanks (but no thanks) to COVID-19, the NCAA has no March Madness this year. Here at the Steely Dan 64 Project, however, we’re plunging ahead with our own Final Four. It starts here.


4. FM (No Static At All) (FM Soundtrack)
Give her some funked-up Muzak, she treats you nice
Feed her some hungry reggae, she’ll love you twice
The girls don’t seem to care tonight
As long as the mood is right

As you’ve surmised by now, there are some Steely Dan tracks that I’ve lived with rather deeply. There are, however, few that I’ve lived with to the degree that I’ve lived with “FM.”

I’ve mentioned here before that, for the better part of two years, I worked at a college radio station in Malibu. Over the course of that time, I wore a number of hats: traffic manager (the person who organizes the schedule and identifies when commercials run); associate music director; baseball play-by-play broadcaster; and chief engineer for sports broadcasts. In and around all of the above, I was a disc jockey — originally on Saturday nights, then mid-mornings a couple of days per week. Plus, I filled in often when other on-air talent didn’t show. (We’re talking about college kids here, so that happened a lot.)

Unlike many college stations, which lean into alternative music genres that don’t get played much on commercial radio, our station’s daytime format corresponded to what most radio stations called “adult contemporary” or “light pop-rock.” Quite a few local businesses used our feed as background noise, so we couldn’t play anything too loud or aggressive in tone during daylight hours. And thus, whenever I went on the air in the morning, I kicked off my shift with Steely Dan’s “FM.”

To this day, I can still improvise a DJ break that exactly fills the 26 seconds of this track’s instrumental intro, and land the station ID a hair’s breadth before Donald Fagen’s vocal kicks in. The Pirate Queen — like a major dude — will tell you. I do it in the car every time “FM” comes on the radio.

“FM” occupies an unusual place in the Steely Dan catalog. It’s the only Dan single that didn’t come from one of their albums; it was recorded during the Aja sessions — and is stylistically similar to the material on that album — but was not included on that release. It’s the only official Steely Dan song recorded specifically for a movie soundtrack; Becker and Fagen produced the music for an independent film, You’ve Got to Walk It Like You Talk It, but that happened before the band’s formation. It’s the only track from the Dan’s classic period on which Becker (guitars and bass) and Fagen (piano) play most of the primary instruments (frequent collaborator Jeff Porcaro plays drums, while Pete Christleib adds the saxophone solo). It’s also one of only two Dan tracks that uses strings (“Through With Buzz,” on Pretzel Logic, is the other).

Worthy of note: three members of the Eagles — Timothy Schmit (who made guest appearances on several other Dan tracks), Don Henley, and Glenn Frey — chime in with backing vocals here. We’ve noted previously that Becker and Fagen name-checked that legendary SoCal band in “Everything You Did” on The Royal Scam, only to receive a callback in the Eagles’ “Hotel California.” The two groups shared common management, and I shudder to imagine what else.

I always enjoyed spinning “FM” on my strictly formatted FM station precisely because the lyrics torpedo the blandness of that era and style of radio, and I knew that almost no one else would get the joke.

So far as was ever communicated to me, no one in the station hierarchy ever did.

Next up: Song #3.

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Songs 6 and 5

March 18, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13]; songs 12 through 9; and songs 8 and 7.]


And then there were six.

6. Any Major Dude Will Tell You (Pretzel Logic)
Have you ever seen a squonk’s tears?
Well, look at mine
The people on the street have all seen better times

For the longest time, I had no idea what a squonk was. Okay, full disclosure: for the longest time, I had no idea what Donald Fagen was even saying in that line. Was it skunk? Spark? Spock? And why would any of those shed tears? (Especially Spock.)

Only decades later would I discover that the actual word was squonk. And only quite some time after that, when my buddy Tom Galloway explained it to me in detail, would I understand the significance of a squonk’s tears. Fortunately for you, there’s Wikipedia. (I’ll save you a click: a squonk is a grotesque mythical creature, allegedly native to Pennsylvania, that literally cries itself into a puddle of tears when frightened.)

When I say that Steely Dan got me through my college years, “Any Major Dude Will Tell You” is one of two songs — the second of which we have yet to cover in this ranking list — that played the largest role. There were days (and nights) when I played this track over and over, and over again, as a reminder to myself that things that seem horrific in the moment — as they often do, when one is in one’s salad days; young and green — eventually get better. True, sometimes they don’t get better. But that would make for a far less repeatable song.

Compared to the majority of tunes in the Steely Dan catalog, “Any Major Dude” (I’m just going to start conserving keystrokes now) is a simple song with a simple message. That’s part of its beauty; you don’t expect anything this direct and uplifting from the two guys Jay Black (of Jay and the Americans) referred to as “Manson and Starkweather,” so it comes as a pleasant surprise. It’s also a surprise that this track, one of the catchiest and most accessible in the Dan’s oeuvre, wasn’t released as a single; instead, it featured as the B-side (look it up, whippersnappers) to “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.”

Dean Parks opens the song with a light acoustic guitar riff, followed by both Fagen and David Paich (later of Toto) on electric piano. Denny Dias handles the brief guitar solo. Those are the highlights. Sometimes, as in this instance, that’s all you need.

Given everything that’s going on in the world at the time of this writing, we all could benefit from the refrain: “When the demon is at your door, in the morning it won’t be there no more… any major dude will tell you.” Let’s all hope the major dudes have this one pegged.

5. Hey Nineteen (Gaucho)
It’s hard times befallen
The Soul Survivors
She thinks I’m crazy
But I’m just growing old

Those of you who know me in the real world know that 19 is a special number to me. Both my birthday and my late first wife KJ’s fall on the 19th of their respective months; we chose as our wedding date the 19th of the month in between them. I was 19 when KJ and I began dating, in a year whose digits added up to 19. Our daughter, whose birthday does not fall on a 19th, still chose a 19th as her wedding date to honor both her mother and me. It stands to reason, then, that “Hey Nineteen” would be one of my favorite songs by my favorite musical act. If you think I’m kidding about that, know that I drove around with these license plates on my car for a lot of years.


(And no, COVID-19 certainly does not count as “special.”)

Today, “Hey Nineteen” would probably be entitled “Okay Boomer” and written from the perspective of the young woman. But this is Steely Dan, and it was 1980, so instead the lyric follows the mindpath of a man approaching middle age who finds himself on a date with a teenager just a year past legal, and discovers that the two of them have nothing to say to one another. (Becker and Fagen were both in their early 30s when Gaucho was released, but I’ve always envisioned the protagonist of “Hey Nineteen” as somewhat older than that; late 30s or early 40s.)

Of course, for a lot of men of a certain age, the prospect of hooking up with a girl still young enough to warrant the use of that word would be a fantasy come true. Typical of the Dan, however, this song serves as musical reinforcement of the ancient maxim, “Be careful what you wish for — you might get it.” Our hapless narrator has to come to grips with the fact that his companion doesn’t relate to any of the things that are important to him, including music: she doesn’t even know who Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul, is. (For a contemporary parallel, think of today’s 18-year-old pop music wunderkind Billie Eilish, who, in a recent interview with Jimmy Kimmel, didn’t know who Van Halen were.)

Fagen’s character pushes past his middle-aged angst with chemical assistance from “the Cuervo Gold” and “the fine Columbian,” and by focusing on the fact that his young companion “sure looks good” when she dances. But listening along, we know this interaction won’t end happily. Miss Nineteen will move on to more age-appropriate social connections — or perhaps won’t; patterns sometimes become habits — and our narrator will resign himself to loneliness until the next Nineteen comes along… because again, patterns sometimes become habits.

“Hey Nineteen” slides perfectly into the pocket of Gaucho‘s easy-rolling soul-jazz groove. A couple of musical choices catch my attention upon repeated listening. One, while Steely Dan frequently made sterling use of female backup choruses — at least, when not exploiting the talents of Michael McDonald — this song employs a pair of male vocalists (Frank Floyd and Zachary Sanders) in much the same way. Contextually, this makes sense; the male voices subtly echo the insecurities spinning in the narrator’s head. Second, the rhythm section plays a particularly vital role here. Becker on bass and Rick Marotta on drums lay down a deceptively casual floor for the rest of the instruments — most memorably, Fagen’s synthesizer — to glide over.

Peaking at #10 on the Billboard Hot 100, “Hey Nineteen” marked Steely Dan’s third and final foray into the Top Ten (following “Do It Again” and “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number”). For an act that produced so many enduring radio staples, the Dan rarely managed a major chart splash.

But when they hit, they hit.

The Final Four arrive next. And in all honesty, any of these last four could be #1, depending on my mood. (The same is true of both of the songs covered in this post, each of which was #1 at various points.) This ranking will represent the mood I was in the day I pronounced this project completed.

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Songs 8 and 7

March 16, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; songs 16 through 13]; and songs 12 through 9.]


During the course of this project, there was a high degree of scrambling and shuffling of my ratings chart. (For those who are curious, I used an iPad app called Cardflow that enabled me to create individual cards — think index cards or Post-It notes — for each of the 64 songs, then move them around the screen at will. I’ll post a screenshot of my working chart in the final post.) Certain songs made dramatic moves up or down in the ratings, sometimes even as I was composing posts that included those songs.

My Top Eight, however, were set pretty solidly from the very beginning. The only real movement here was internal; the order of these eight did shuffle around a good deal. Seven of my Top Eight occupied the Number One position in at least one iteration, which tells you just how much all of these songs mean to me, and how small the distinctions are between them. On any given day, I might rethink and re-sort these into yet another different order. (At one point, I just had to stop myself and say, “No more finagling — this is the order I’m going with.”) But at this juncture, I don’t believe that any of the songs we’ll review from here on would ever fall lower than eighth.

Let’s begin the ascent to the summit.

8. Here at the Western World (Greatest Hits)
In the night you hide from the madman
You’re longing to be
But it all comes out on the inside

Of all of the songs in this list of 64, “Here at the Western World” is probably the least familiar to the casual Steely Dan fan. Recorded during the sessions for The Royal Scam, Becker and Fagen elected not to use it either on that album or its followup, Aja.

I’m not sure why that decision was made. “Here at the Western World” compares favorably with the material on both of the aforementioned albums; if you’ve been keeping score, you’ve already figured out that I’ve only ranked one track from each of those albums higher than this. Sonically and tonally, “Western World” fits more seamlessly with the Aja material than with The Royal Scam, so perhaps Walter and Donald decided to reserve it from Scam in favor of their next record, then either forgot about it or didn’t have room for it when Aja‘s track list was being compiled.

Whatever occurred there, the Dan’s delay in creating their next studio album after Aja convinced ABC Records, their label at the time, to release a Greatest Hits set. Someone, somewhere, was inspired to resurrect “Here at the Western World” as a bonus cut on that compilation. And while it’s not truly a “greatest hit,” in that it was never released as a single and never charted, it definitely stands — in my opinion, and I’m the one writing here — among the very finest tracks the Dan ever produced.

As is usually the case with the boys from Bard, it’s tough to be 100% certain what “Here at the Western World” is about. It’s possible to interpret the titular location as either a bordello or a drug den or possibly both; I favor the first interpretation, but I wouldn’t argue with the others. The lyrics here are, even for the Dan, particularly twisty and sly. In any case, it’s yet another opportunity for Fagen and Becker to explore a slice of urban life’s seedy underbelly, as they were frequently wont to do.

From a musical perspective, it’s a beautifully simple song; for a team that excelled at devising spectacularly complex arrangements and tonalities, Becker and Fagen accomplished some of their most memorable work when they stripped everything down to basics. The entire musical corps supplies subtle support. Michael Omartian delivers a lovely, lilting piano backdrop, counterpointed against the rock-steady rhythm section of Bernard “Pretty” Purdie on drums and Chuck Rainey on bass. Similarly, Fagen’s vocal is buoyed by an all-female chorus; this time, it’s Leslie Miller, Casey Syszik, and Florence Warner. Frequent Dan sideman Dean Parks slips in a tasteful guitar solo just to round things out.

If you’ve never heard “Here at the Western World” — or even if you have — click the link above and immerse yourself in some Steely deliciousness. You’ll be glad you did.

7. Doctor Wu (Katy Lied)
Katy lies
You can see it in her eyes
But imagine my surprise
When I saw you

Are you with me, Doctor Woods?

That’s Phil Woods, whose alto sax solo provides the instrumental highlight of “Doctor Wu.” Becker and Fagen always did a superlative job of roping in top sidemen — once they had decided that a set band lineup didn’t put enough tools in their toolbox — and Phil Woods was about as top as sidemen got. I mean, Phil Woods was so close to being the next Charlie “Bird” Parker that he actually married Parker’s former common-law wife, Chan. (You could say that she had a type, and that type was world-class saxophone players.)

If you were Walter and Donald, who so idolized Parker that they wrote a song about him (“Parker’s Band”), and you can’t get Parker to play on one of your records — mostly because he died 17 years before you started making records — the next best thing would be Phil Woods. (Billy Joel thought so too; that’s Woods playing sax on Joel’s megahit “Just the Way You Are.”)

Now, “Doctor Wu” would be an excellent song even without Woods’s sax solo. Start with one of the catchiest, hookiest, most unavoidably infectious lyrics of any Dan song — seriously, try listening to this track and not walk away singing, “Are you with me, Doctor Wu? Are you really just a shadow of the man that I once knew?” Add one of Fagen’s warmest, most engaging vocal performances; sprinkle in a soupçon of drummer Jeff Porcaro’s sneaky-tight percussion; and you’ve got a recipe for bliss.

As for the title character himself, I’ve read numerous articles over the years that purported that there was a real-life Doctor Wu — maybe a psychiatrist, maybe a pharmacist, maybe a plastic surgeon to the stars. Becker and Fagen always maintained that Wu was fictional and metaphoric, though they didn’t always agree what the metaphor was supposed to be. Becker once claimed that Wu represented a breach of trust between a patient and physician; Fagen said in an interview that Wu was the personification of a drug addiction.

You believe what you choose. Just don’t ask Katy. She lies.

Next up: Songs #5 and #6. Where will your favorite land on my scale?

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Songs 12-9

March 13, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; songs 24 through 17; and songs 16 through 13.]


12. Black Friday (Katy Lied)
When Black Friday comes
I’ll fly down to Muswellbrook
Gonna strike all the big red words
From my little black book

One of the underrated boons of the Internet is easy access to song lyrics, something that in less technological times, people had to decipher for themselves more often than not. For years, I puzzled over the word — or was it a phrase? — in the second verse of “Black Friday.” Was it “my swell brook”? “Mizewell Brook”? “Muscle Well Broke”?

As it turns out, the word is “Muswellbrook.” It’s a small town in New South Wales, Australia, about 150 miles north of Sydney. No one is quite sure how the place came to be called Muswellbrook; the best guess is that it was originally designated “Mussel Creek,” which became “Muscle Creek” before morphing into “Muscle Brook” and eventually Muswellbrook. Or perhaps, as allegedly happened with Istanbul, people just liked it better that way.

Becker and Fagen chose the name-check for their tune about a scurrilous financier absconding with funds because it sounded like a nicely remote place to run off to if you were a fugitive from Los Angeles. Also, it rhymed with “book.”

Musically, this one’s got everything you want: a driving beat, pushed along with aplomb by Jeff Porcaro on drums (not many Steely Dan joints can be described as “danceable,” but “Black Friday” certainly is); a catchy, clever, hook-laden lyric; and a propulsive guitar solo by Walter Becker, wringing the snot out of Denny Dias’s Telecaster. People who think of every Dan track as “yacht rock” need to hear them just plain rock, and that’s what they do on “Black Friday.” (That, and maybe wrestle over a cheap flatscreen at Target.)

Then again, for some of us, every Friday is Black Friday.

11. Peg (Aja)
I like your pin shot
I keep it with your letter
Done up in blueprint blue
It sure looks good on you

Rumor has it that this song recalls the brief life of Peg Entwhistle, a wannabe starlet in the early days of the LA film industry who committed suicide by jumping off the Hollywood sign (it read “Hollywoodland” then) in 1932. To the best that I can determine, Fagen and Becker never confirmed this — they rarely have confirmed speculation about any song they wrote — and I suppose that explanation works. I always thought it was about a young actress being seduced by a sleazy producer into making films “for mature audiences.” Either way, the grimy underlying narrative is offset by as bright and bouncy a melody as the boys from Bard ever penned.

The most famous anecdote concerning “Peg” surrounds the quasi-Hawaiian guitar solo by Jay Graydon. By the time of Aja, Becker and Fagen had become so anal-retentive that they would routinely bring in multiple session musicians to record parts to their songs, discarding everything but the one track that met their specifications. Six other guitarists took a whack at the “Peg” solo before Graydon, in a day-long marathon involving countless takes, finally nailed it. It’s no wonder that Graydon switched from playing to producing shortly after the Aja sessions, going on to success helming albums for the Manhattan Transfer and numerous other acts. I’d have probably hung up my axe too.

In a nod to our repeated mantra that Michael McDonald makes everything better, let’s mention that McDonald’s multitracked backing vocals (pianist Paul Griffin also contributed; he’s the one muttering incomprehensibly late in the song) are probably the feature of “Peg” that everyone remembers. Has any background singer ever squeezed as much juice out of a single syllable as McDonald does with his punctuating “Peg”? Consider that lily gilded.

10. Rikki Don’t Lose That Number (Pretzel Logic)
I have a friend in town, he’s heard your name
We can go out driving on Slow Hand Row
We could stay inside and play games, I don’t know
And you could have a change of heart

What often gets lost in the Steely Dan discussion is the fact that, despite their penchant for elaborate arrangements and jazz-influenced solos, Becker and Fagen spent their classic period creating — for the most part — relatively compact, radio-friendly songs. At the time of Pretzel Logic, for example — the Dan’s last pretense at being an actual band with regular members beyond the Dynamic Duo — they were filling albums with tunes timing in at around three minutes. “Rikki” ties with the title track as the longest selection on the record, and it’s only four-and-a-half minutes. Not too long for a single, even in the fast-moving ’70s.

“Rikki” would become the Dan’s all-time biggest chart hit, peaking at #4 on the Billboard Hot 100. [“Do It Again,” their debut single (#4), and “Hey Nineteen,” the lead single from their last classic-period album (#10), would be the group’s only forays into the Top Ten.] Even now, 45 years after its release, Victor Feldman’s bizarre marimba noodling makes the song’s intro immediately identifiable.

It’s funny now to think that for many years, everyone thought “Rikki” was about a drug dealer and his client. The reality is much simpler. The real-life Rikki was a girl Walter Becker knew and crushed on during his Bard College days. She didn’t reciprocate his interest, at least not to the same level. The song, written in the days before Steely Dan was yet a thing, is about Becker’s earnest attempts at connecting with this aloof would-be paramour. That number, so important for Rikki not to lose, was Walter’s.

9. Black Cow (Aja)
Just when it seems so clear
That it’s over now
Drink your big Black Cow
And get out of here

For the record, I’ve never consumed a Black Cow: a kind of alcoholic milkshake consisting of Kahlua (a sweet coffee-flavored liqueur imported from Mexico), half-and-half, and cola. Which sounds, frankly, like something a stoner with the munchies would dream up if challenged to create a cocktail. The strange brew that is “Black Cow” the song, however, goes down even more smoothly and sweetly than its namesake drink.

Here’s an odd casting choice: drummer Paul Humphreys, who makes his only Steely Dan session appearance on this track, was for many years the drummer for Lawrence Welk, the king of sanitized Muzak for elderly white folks. But let’s not hold that against the man — a cat’s gotta eat, right? Before settling in to tap out rhythms behind champagne music, Humphreys was a veteran jazz session player alongside everyone from John Coltrane to Wes Montgomery, and who recorded and toured with such diverse popular music stars as Marvin Gaye, Jerry Garcia, and Sammy Davis, Jr.

Speaking of casting, let’s give a shout-out to the ladies of the chorus, who carry even more of the weight on this number than they often did. Steely Dan employed teams of soulful female vocalists on recordings all the way back to their debut album (for example, “Dirty Work” on Can’t Buy a Thrill). For “Black Cow,” the Dan enlisted the quartet of Clydie King, Sherlie Matthews, Venetta Fields, and Rebecca Louis to glide along with Fagen as he wove this tale of a crumbling relationship with a drunken and dissolute lover. The counterpoint between the silky tones of the women and Donald’s nasal growl lends the song a subtle irony.

Also, we have to talk about Tom Scott. The legendary sax man contributes both a stylish solo and some stellar horn arrangements here. Scott’s impact would be even more powerfully felt on the Dan’s subsequent album, Gaucho.

Fun fact: Of the seven classic-period Steely Dan albums, two open with a song whose title begins with “Black.” And we’ve covered them both in this post.

Top Eight next. The pure cream rises to the surface.

The Steely Dan 64 Project, Songs 16-13

March 10, 2020

[NOTE: The Steely Dan 64 Project represents my ranking, in order of my personal preference, of the 64 songs released by Steely Dan during their “classic” period (1972-80). These links will connect you to a detailed introduction to the project, as well as notes on the songs I’ve numbered 64 through 57; songs 56 through 49; songs 48 through 41; songs 40 through 33; songs 32 through 25; and songs 24 through 17.]


Here, we begin our ascent into the Top Sixteen. We’ll narrow the focus from eight songs per post to four from here on, just to give ourselves room to breathe. It’s going to get stratospheric on the remainder of our journey up the charts.

16. Night By Night (Pretzel Logic)
“It’s a beggar’s life,” said the Queen of Spain
But don’t tell it to a poor man
‘Cause he’s got to kill for every thrill
The best he can

“Night By Night” has always struck me as the ideal theme song for a cool neo-noir detective film set in the ’70s. It just has that vibe. Whenever I listen to this tune, I envision a flinty-eyed tough guy wearing impeccably tailored dark suits over a leather shoulder holster, driving a black Buick Electra 225 (what we used to call a “Deuce and a Quarter” back in the day) down a rain-slick, neon-glossy Sunset Boulevard. And his hair? Perfect.

Everything you need to know musically about “Night By Night” is right here: Jeff Porcaro, who delivers a lockdown drum beat so crisp you want to dunk it in coffee, was just 18 years old when he played this session. Think about that. When I was 18, the only drumstick I could handle was fried and came from a chicken. The young Mr. Porcaro’s stunning work on this track led to Becker and Fagen bringing him back for the entirety of their next album, Katy Lied. And of course, he would go on to a bazillion other sessions, and some little rock combo that had a hit or three. You’ve probably heard of them. I think they were named after a dog in some old movie.

But not the movie to which “Night By Night” would be the theme. There’s no dog in that one.

15. Babylon Sisters (Gaucho)
Well, I should know by now
That it’s just a spasm
Like a Sunday in TJ
That it’s cheap, but it’s not free

One of the many things Steely Dan did better than practically any other band before or since was choose absolutely perfect tracks to open each of their albums. Every one of the seven studio releases during their classic period kicks off with a number that just sucks you in, and makes you need — not want, but need — to hear the rest of the record.

“Babylon Sisters,” the initial track on the Dan’s last album of the period, is no exception. By the time Gaucho debuted in 1980, fans had been waiting three years since the precedent-shattering Aja to find out how in the world Becker and Fagen would follow up that magnum opus. Then the needle finally hit the vinyl, and we heard Bernard Purdie’s signature shuffle drop in, followed by Chuck Rainey’s throbbing bass line, and then that almost mystically gliding electric piano riff by Don Grolnick. We all breathed a sigh of relief and whispered, “Oh, yeah… they’ve got this.”

When Patti Austin and her vocal crew sail in to sing, “Here come those Santa Ana winds again,” I’m swept back to a Sunday night in late August 40 years ago. I’m sitting on a concrete staircase on a hillside in Malibu, chatting with a girl I had met just a few hours before, already starting to feel the stirrings of that magical sensation that young love generates. As we sit and talk, a warm stiff breeze blows in from the southeast. My companion, a native of the Pacific Northwest who is new to southern California, wonders aloud where that weirdly hot wind is coming from. And I explain to her what a Santa Ana is.

She would hear a lot of Steely Dan in the weeks and months that follow.

14. Pretzel Logic (Pretzel Logic)
I have never met Napoleon
But I plan to find the time
‘Cause he looks so fine upon that hill
They tell me he was lonely, he’s lonely still

Part of the joy of listening to Steely Dan comes from attempting to decipher Becker and Fagen’s cryptic, convoluted lyrics. In this particular instance, however, they tell us out front that there’s no point in that: the name of the song is “Pretzel Logic.” I’m reasonably certain that the boys from Bard had something in mind when they wrote this, but all these decades later, I still have no idea what that something is. Fagen once stated that the song is about time travel. To which I can only say… okay?

This bluesy track — somewhat unusual in the Steely Dan canon, which tends to tilt more toward jazz than blues in terms of influences — finds Walter Becker playing lead guitar for the first time on a Dan album; prior to this, Becker primarily played bass, while Denny Dias and Jeff “Skunk” Baxter handled the guitar chores. As a guitarist, Becker lacks Baxter’s flash and Dias’s crystalline technique, but when he steps forward to grind out a solo, he delivers it with a melancholy soulfulness that packs an emotional punch. Here, he leans into the blues without leaving his more experimental predilections behind entirely.

It’s worth noting that “Pretzel Logic” offers, in my estimation, one of Fagen’s finest vocal performances. There’s a lightness — dare I say, joy — to his singing on this track that I’ve always found appealing. He gets an assist in the choruses from future Eagle Timothy B. Schmit, who’s not a bad guy to have singing harmonies if you haven’t yet discovered Michael McDonald.

As for Napoleon, I’m still waiting to find the time.

13. The Caves of Altamira (The Royal Scam)
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told, but never seen

In 1955, a German author named Hans Baumann wrote a book entitled The Caves of the Great Hunters, in which two young boys stumble upon some prehistoric paintings on the walls of a cave. Years later, Becker and Fagen thought the theme of the book would make an interesting basis for a pop-rock song. You know… as one would.

(It should be noted — because someone is bound to point it out if I don’t — that there was a period early in his life during which Hans Baumann was a straight-up Nazi; not in the generic “I don’t agree with that guy politically so I’m going to call him the worst name I can think of” sense, but in the actual Deutschland-uber-alles, Hitler-saluting sense. Post-World War II, Baumann sort of handwaved his Nazi past and became an internationally acclaimed writer of children’s books, of which The Caves of the Great Hunters was but one. This is not to suggest in any way that there’s anything even remotely fascist about this song. It’s just that, well, life is complicated.)

As we’ve seen in the posts leading up to this one, Steely Dan’s catalog teems with fascinating deep cuts. “The Caves of Altamira” is a brilliant example of a Dan song that most casual listeners aren’t familiar with, but that everyone should be. Not only is the lyrical subject matter unique — quick, name all the other songs that you can think of that use Paleolithic cave art as a metaphor for fleeting youth — but the music itself is glorious. Few rock bands have used horns as effectively as the Dan does here (early Chicago; Blood, Sweat and Tears; to a lesser degree, Huey Lewis and the News) without diving directly into the cheese plate. Chuck Findley’s trumpet flourishes soar and swing. And at a time when saxophone solos were everywhere on the pop charts, few were as economical and tasteful as John Klemmer lays it down.

Incidentally, the caves of Altamira, along with others throughout northern Spain, were designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1985. I’m not saying that this song had anything to do with that. I am saying that I’m sure it didn’t hurt.

Next up: Songs 12 through 9. Any theories yet on what Steely Dan joint will be my Number One?