Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

Now that's one long concert

Ah, the things we'll do for fame.

I came across this article from Paste magazine about the new longest concert by a solo artist - some dude name Gonzales from Canada.  Total time: 27 hours, three minutes and 44 seconds. 

Wow.  And I get winded playing more than three hours.

I especially like the part about how he ate cereal with one hand, presumably leaving his other one free to continue playing music.  This, of course, leads us to wonder how he dealt with other bodily functions that operate on their own timetable, if you know what I mean.  Hmm, maybe we don't want to know.

Another question: Gonzales was obviously there for the full duration, but what about the audience?  Did everyone stick it out?  And if so, do they get a Guinness record too?

I mean, to each their own, you know?  I've never heard of Gonzales before, and I'm going to bet that you haven't either (although his label Arts & Crafts has some awesome bands like The Most Serene Republic, American Analog Set and Broken Social Scene).  If this is the only thing he does that any of us will remember, so be it. As long as he doesn't mind being known by the vast populous as nothing more than a Guinness Book Record holder, that's cool.

Here's some concert footage, and the "big moment:"

Gonzales, 27h de concert, la vidéo des dernières minutes
by fluctuat

So what's your take on it?

P.S: Don't laugh at him covering Britney Spears.  I don't know how his went, but it is possible to do it well.  Case in point.  Man, Nickel Creek rocks.  I miss 'em already.

Memorial Day in Mayberry 2009

Four albums out this spring that you should get

There's a lot of good music coming out these days.  To each their own, of course, but if I may let me suggest four albums in particular for your listening pleasure.

And please know I use the term "album" very deliberately here.  In our top-40 culture the concept of a solid collection of songs assembled together as a single unit is a fast-disappearing art form.  The music biz, sadly, is driven by "hits" - and hits don't need albums to carry them, especially when you can download a single song off itunes or Amazon.com.  It's easy to strike gold once; it's a lot harder to do it 10-12 times.  So more often than not you get CDs with one or two good tracks and lots of filler.  The four CDs I'm highlighting here, I would argue, are for the most part solid albums from start to finish.  More bang for your buck, you see.

Now that I've explained my theory of the album very verbosely (shocker, I know), here are my big four:

The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love: The first thing you notice about this album is that, while it contains 17 tracks, all the songs kind of merge into each other.  In other words there's no break between tracks, so the whole album i's essentially one 55-minute song, like the movements of a symphony or a classic Yes tune. Another symphony parallel is the way particular melodies, chord progressions and riffs keep reappearing in different variations, tying the album together.

If you're not familiar with The Decemberists, this album may be a good time to check them out.  The songs are well-crafted, the vocals are strong, and the different styles of music used throughout the record are refreshing.  Where else in recent rock/pop music, pray tell, will you encounter a harpsichord?  The five/six/seven member band is comprised of strong musicians who each bring a lot to the overall project.

About the only real negative with this album is part of what makes it appealing - the "one-song" flow.  It's cool, but it would be nice to have a break every now and then.  Still, it shouldn't be enough to turn you away.  Itunes - Amazon.com

Green Day - 21st Century Breakdown: I never considered myself a big Green Day fan until American Idiot came out in 2004.  I really believe that fifty years from now we'll still be talking about that album. 

The challenge for any band after such an amazing record, of course, is following it up - just ask U2 (The Joshua Tree), The Beach Boys (Pet Sounds), or Fleetwood Mac (Rumors).  Expectations are incredibly high and so many factors go into making a truly great album that, with a few exceptions, lightning rarely strikes in the same place twice.

So here's how to approach Green Day's latest - just accept the fact that it's not another American Idiot.  If you do that you're in good shape, because the truth is that this really is a solid record.  Like Idiot it tells a story about the triumphs and pitfalls of living in American culture, which this Rolling Stone review does a good job of recounting (and comparing it in some notable ways to its predecessor).  At the risk of undermining the aforementioned album theory and highlighting a few songs, you'll definitely want to hear "Know Your Enemy" (the current single), "21 Guns" and (because it's different) "Peacemaker." 

Two caveats: first, keep in mind that this is Green Day, which means they like throwing a few choice words around - little ears beware.  Second, Green Day is not much of a fan of organized religion, Christianity in particular.  So if you're easily offended by this sort of thing you may want to keep that in mind (and while I'm on the subject, if you're looking for a more thoughtful analysis of the plight of American Christianity, might I suggest this and this.  Just thought I'd mention...)  Itunes - Amazon.com

Jars Of Clay - The Long Fall Back To Earth:  In some ways it feels like so long ago that we first heard these guys, way back in 1995 with the release of their first album and its runaway hit "Flood."  Back then they were known - and still are - for being the rare act that successfully "crosses over" from the contemporary Christian market to the mainstream.  The reason they've been able to do this, in my opinion, is not due to slick marketing strategies (although they've certainly had those) as much as the fact that they simply put out good music.

One of things that's impressed me about Jars of Clay over the years is how much they've improved - musically, songwriting, the whole package.  With each album they seem to take another step ahead as a band.  TLFBTE is a perfect example of this.  The album is chopped full of good songs that are written, performed and produced well.  Particularly notable is the evolution of lead singer Dan Haseltine, whose vocals are richer and whose range has expanded tremendously in recent years (check out "Hero" and you'll see what I mean).  The album also has a distinctive 80's feel to it - you listen to "Heaven" and you'll want to dig out your Rubik's Cube and Members Only jacket.  Okay, maybe not, but it will take you on a trip down memory lane, I promise you that.

The fact that the first single "Two Hands" is not the best song on the album means we'll be hearing more from this CD in the near future.  Itunes - Amazon.com

Coldplay - LeftRightLeftRightLeft: Good albums are rare these days, folks.  What's even rarer are free good albums.  But that's the case with Coldplay's latest.  The deal is this: everyone who attends their upcoming summer tour gets a free copy of this CD.  Missed out on snagging a ticket for the show?  Don't worry - all you have to do is go to their website and download the album.  You can do it right now, in fact (just finish reading my blog first).  They ask for an email address, but they allow you to opt out of being added to their mailing list. Wow.

Have these blokes totally lost it?  Hardly.  In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if this becomes more common in the music biz.  Successful bands like Coldplay don't really need to siphon more money from their faithful as much as further expand their audience base.  What better way to do this than offer a free album?  You not only solidify the loyalty of your existing fans, who think you're even cooler than they thought before, but you're bound to get new people to take a chance on you.  As a side note, this is exactly what happened when a band I'd never heard of, The Damnwells, offered their latest studio project at no cost.  What did I have to lose?  I downloaded it and liked it so much that I paid to get an earlier album that's fantastic.  They got themselves a new fan because they did some "outside-of-the-box" thinking. 

As I said before, what makes Coldplay's latest even more remarkable is that it is not just free but good.  Very good.  Understandably the nine songs, like the tour, weigh heavily toward stuff off Viva La Vida (and some tunes from the B-side follow-up, Prospekt's March), with a nod or two to earlier times.  Making live albums is not that easy - you're working in less-than desirable circumstances (read: not a studio), so you've got to mic everything perfectly (including the oft-neglected instrument of a good life recording, the crowd).  Balancing all those factors is tricky.  You also have to mix the tracks so things flow together, like the crowd noise from the end of a track to the beginning of the next one.  Otherwise it feels like a patchworked collection of tunes instead of a true live concert.

LeftRightLeftRightLeft passes these tests with flying colors, in my opinion.  These songs really come alive when played live, and the boys successfully shoot down critics who say they rely too much on studio magic and are not "true musicians."  All the songs are great, but "Fix You" really stands out.  I dare you to listen to the crowd singing the chorus and not get chills up and down your spine.

Oh, and it's free.  Did I already mention that?

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So there you are - music to carry you from spring into summer!  Feel free to add your own favorite spring 2009 album in the comments below.

The day Prince took out Acoustic Blend

Last Friday evening after a nice little Acoustic Blend gig, Ken and I hung out at a local Starbucks and talked about the state of our two YouTube clips from the big Civic Center concert almost a month ago.  Looking it up on my Blackberry we learned that "Ants Marching" had 103 hits, while "Purple Rain" had a whopping 1,232.  It was cool to know so many people were checking them out.

Turns out that would be the last time I'd ever get a hit count on the Prince tune, and the last time anyone would ever get to see it.  Yesterday I got this email from YouTube:

This is to notify you that we have removed access to your video, Acoustic Blend - Purple Rain (Prince cover), as a result of a notification by The Publisher claiming that this material is infringing.  For more information, please visit our Copyright Tips guide.  If you believe this claim was made in error, or that you are otherwise authorized to use the content at issue, you may file a counter notice.  Sincerely, The YouTube Team

Well, at least they were nice about it.  "Sincerely" and stuff....

Seriously, though, what a bummer. And quite perplexing, as videos of people performing covers are quite aplenty in YouTube land.  If I'm trying to learn a tune for Mediocre Bad Guys, YouTube is the place to go to see how folks are playing it.  So when did this suddenly become an issue?

Turns out the issue may be more of "who" than "when."  At band practice last night Jerry reminded me of a blurb in a recent Rolling Stone issue about Prince's longstanding animosity toward his music being covered and posted on YouTube.  It appears that the eccentric (and certainly talented) artist wants to maintain full control over his image, products and music - a stiff challenge in an internet world for sure.  But the dude has a ton of money, which means he can hire an army of folks to do his bidding.  So it appears that Acoustic Blend is just the latest casualty in Prince's quest, and we will certainly not be the last. 

I hate it, if for no other reason than I felt it was a great cover.  Ken nailed the vocals, we had a real live bass player, and how can anyone ever forget Allen rising out of the orchestra pit for the solo!  Now that has been lost from the public eye forever.  So we shall take a moment to mourn the passing of the YouTube clip.......

There, I feel better now.

But have no fear, friends - I will not leave you lacking.  So I'm posting a few extra YouTube clips from the show.  Originals, of course ;-)  Enjoy the tunes.

Getting back in the Game (in a good way)

I'm really digging this YouTube clip:

I like it because, although not to this degree, I've been in that poor vicar's shoes before, and misery loves company.  I also like it because it shows in pretty stark fashion the complexity of the collision between faith and culture.  And I think the British accents are cool.

The church, as this video quite effectively demonstrates, has never had all the answers - although many times it's tried to pretend that it did.  What the church has always had is a definitive calling to speak up and make a difference in the world.  Unfortunately, it hasn't always done that.  Hmm.  Talk about getting your jobs mixed up.

I was reminded of the latter when I read a great syndicated column by Leonard Pitts this past week.  You can read it here, and I really hope you do before you read the rest of this blog, as what I say from here on will make a lot more sense.

The beauty of this article is that Pitts approaches things not just a journalist but as a person of faith, and one who is lamenting the response - or lack thereof - of the church on a number of issues.  Eighty years ago it was the Holocaust, fifty years ago it was civil rights, thirty years ago it was the AIDS epidemic.  There are others, of course - poverty and hunger, the environmental crisis - and most of the time it seems as if the church is the last to respond, if at all. This is especially true with the issue Pitts hones in on, that being torture. 

Now - let me clarify two things.  First, I have every ounce of respect for the women and men in our military who defend this country.  I'm grateful for their devotion and mourn when they make the ultimate sacrifice.  Second, I'm not approaching this topic from a political standpoint.  I feel the need to clarify this because the morning the article came out I posted the link on my Facebook page and got a wave of comments from folks, many who assumed I was getting political.  I'm not.  In fact, Pitts himself doesn't bring politics into it - and if you've read any of his other stuff you know he's not opposed to doing that in the least.

What I am doing is recognizing the fact - as many others have - that something has gone seriously awry when the world's superpower chooses to ignore the very rules it helped to create and institutes tactics that have not only been proven to be ineffective but actually incite those in opposition even further.  It would be sad enough if only our government bought into this, but the real tragedy is that many in religious circles are falling in line too.  The fact that, according to the study cited in Pitts' article, a majority of American Christians (evangelical Protestants specifically) express support of torture is terribly ironic, given the fact that the man they pledge their allegiance to was a victim of the worst kind of torture himself.  The cross was Rome's masterpiece in its vast torture arsenal, and the streets of Jerusalem were literally lined with them (and their victims) for all to see.  It was a horrific reminder by the powers-that-be of who was in charge and what would happen to those who forgot.  And yet the Christian faith was born out of those who stood against that kind of power; a counter-measure proclaiming a very different way of life, with Jesus-the-torture-victim at the center of it all.

How did we get here?  That was the question author Diana Butler-Bass posed as a comment on my Facebook link.  How did the church become complacent on issues that really matter?  I imagine it's a complex problem that none of us will ever fully understand.  But if I had to take a guess, I'd say something similar to what I mentioned in a previous blog post about welcoming a post-Christian America.  Every time the church and the imperial power of its day joined forces, the church has lost its soul.  Its priorities change from proclaiming the kingdom of God to supporting the power structure, from loving unconditionally to drawing lines of who is in and out, from speaking the truth in love to speaking the agenda through power. 

So we wind up with a bizarre situation: the church on the sidelines while others forge ahead.  It's an odd twilight-zone-ish scene where, as Pitts' article point outs, comedian Jon Stewart becomes a spokesperson on the torture issue (as was evidenced in his Daily Show interview with Cliff May in April, which you can watch here).  It's both enlightening and kind of embarrassing that a late-night comedian - and not the faith community - is leading the charge.  Only in America.

Is there then any hope?  You bet!  In fact, in a blog post of her own, Butler-Bass makes the case that mainline Protestants are beginning to evolve into our country's new moral conscience.  My hope is that us "Prods" will latch onto this as our new collective identity while joining forces with other followers of Christ, other faiths, and even those of no faith at all.  Perhaps the church will then be leading the way in a good way - not to achieve power or receive "kickbacks" from an unholy marriage with the culture, but as a beacon shining light on the stark differences between right and wrong, between hope and fear, between fair and unjust.

So I'm tired of being on the sidelines. I'm ready for the church to get back into the game; back to being more relevant and speaking out on issues that really matter in our world.  Maybe if we begin doing that, just maybe, we'll stop being awkward - like that poor dude in the YouTube clip.  Man, I feel his pain.

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UPDATE: Pitts' article has really gotten in my head this week and has come into play with my sermon this Sunday.  Feel free to check it out if you want.

When technical glitches can be a blessing....

It's funny how things happen, and at first they seem like the worst thing, and then later they turn out to be pretty cool.

So I was playing some music at Foothills Brewing in Winston-Salem - great place to play and listen to acoustic music.  That is, until your amp decides to give out on you.  Which it did, about an hour and a half into the evening.  And not only did it "give out," but it did so with a vengeance, emitting a horrible screeching sound anytime I strummed the guitar or sang into the mic.  It was right after I had kicked off "Meet Virginia."  Perhaps it didn't like me playing that song.

A few folks huddled around the equipment to see if they could identify the problem - a loose cable, a faulty volume knob, something that could be easily fixed.  After a few minutes of observation the collective declared it to be a faulty wire inside the amp.  Translation: no more powered volume for the evening.

This, as I'm sure you can imagine, is an acoustic performer's worst nightmare - more feared than the string that keeps breaking or the woman at the bar persistently requesting a James Blunt song.  I thought about calling it a night right there - it was almost 11:30 and I had played for two hours with a short break.  But the crowd had picked back up a bit and it just seemed kind of wrong to leave all that.  So I did the only logical thing: I unplugged and became the strolling minstrel.

Looking back on this, it's interesting that, in the history of performing arts, plugging in to a sound system is a fairly recent development.  Back in the good ol' days, six-stringers like me (or those with more strings like this jolly-looking fella to the left) would do their thing without the assistance of amplified sound.  And because they weren't tied down to cables and such, they were free to roam.  That's our heritage, and yet we've lost touch with it.  Kind of funny that, on those rare occasions when the sound system goes kaput, we musicians go into shut-down mode.  What, pray tell, can we do without our beloved crutch to lean on?

That was me for a minute or two at Foothills, until I threw caution to the wind.  I unplugged the quarter-inch cord from the base of my guitar and hit the road, playing another six songs around the room.  And the cool thing was that I got to meet and interact with folks in a way I normally wouldn't have be able too.  There was a table of six recent graduates from Salem College, only one of which currently has a job.  I wished the other five lots of luck.  There was a young couple at a nearby table; she recently flipped the tassel at UGA; his father is (how's this for coincidences) a Presbyterian minister.  There was another group of three that consisted of a Wake Forest grad student and her parents who had just made the trip from their home in Ft. Lauderdale.  In between tunes we had a nifty conversation about which Protestant denomination is most closely linked to the catholic church.

None of this interaction would've occurred if my amp had been working perfectly; if I remained behind the comfort of my microphone and guitar foot pedals, letting the sound system do all the work.  There would've been a few nods of affirmation from the distance, maybe a request or two.  But that would've been it.

Don't get me wrong - my amp is going into the shop first thing this afternoon.  I don't plan on making the strolling minstrel thing a habit.  But it was cool when I had to do it - and if, God forbid, the planets should align once again, I won't be as hesitant next time.

That, and the tips were much better.

How to (and not to) redo a classic Sci-fi Movie

Just got done watching two sci-fi movies in 48 hours - rented The Day the Earth Stood Still Saturday night and saw the new Star Trek movie today.  Which is kind of a big deal, as most of my movie watching these days is limited to whatever I happen upon as I'm channel-surfing TBS or TNT (which means I've seen Oceans Eleven and the Bourne flicks multiple times).  If I rent a movie it's typically not something for me (think Scooby-Doo or Spongebob - you get the idea), and my wife and I frequent the movie theater about as much as we have dates in general.  Ah, married life!

I didn't plan it this way, you know (I'm back to talking about the sci-fi movies).  I'd seen the big sign at Blockbuster about the remake of the 1951 classic and had a Saturday evening to kill while my wife was engrossed in reading Twilight.  And then today, on a whim, the DCE at the church and I had some program staff bonding time at the matinee of the latest installment in Gene Roddenberry's creation.  To make a poor attempt at a pun, sometimes the planets align like that (I told you it was poor).

What struck me was how underwhelmed I was with one movie and how impressed I was with the other.  Bet you're wondering which is which, aren't you?  I'll spare you the suspense.

I never saw the original version of The Day the Earth Stood Still (heretofore known as TDTESS), so I don't really have much to compare the newer version with.  I didn't know a whole lot about the story line either.  But here's the gist - an alien race has been keeping tabs on earth for a few million years and comes to the conclusion that everything has been great - except for those pesky humans, who mess it up for everything else.  So all animal life is removed from the planet in preparation for the total extermination of everything man-made - including, of course, all humans.  The animals would then be returned to bask in the joy of a human-less world.  The "twist" in the story is the character Klaatu, played by Keanu Reeves, who comes to earth to announce the end of humanity.  I don't think I'm giving away any huge story plot to inform you that the human race, in the end, is not annihilated; as Reeves' character comes to see the brighter side of humanity and averts an all-out catastrophe just in the nick of time.

I tried very hard to like this movie - I really did.  It had a lot of components that I'm typically drawn to - the whole "life outside this planet" thing, the threat of the end of the world (same reason I was drawn to The Day After Tomorrow and Deep Impact).  But it just didn't work for me.  About the only real bright spot came from witnessing the acting chops of little Jaden Smith, son of Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith.  This kid is amazing, folks; and if you saw him and his dad in The Pursuit of Happyness you know what I'm talking about.  He's got a future, I can tell you that.  Sadly, though, his latest movie does not. 

That was that movie.  And then there's the new Star Trek flick.  I'm no Trekkie by any stretch of the imagination, although on sleepless nights I've been known to wander downstairs and tune in to TV Land to catch some reruns (which promptly put me to sleep).  Still the hype surrounding this movie was enough to entice me.  That, and at the very least I admired the chutzpah of those involved in putting this together.  I know the place this story has in the science fiction world, and you just don't go messing with an institution like it unless you know what you're doing. 

This was a good movie, folks.  It obviously borrowed a lot from the original story line, but you never had the sense that they were outright copying everything.  It had a good story with lots of interesting twists that included a healthy dose of solid action scenes.  The casting, in my opinion, was dead-on.  Chris Pine played James T. Kirk wonderfully, Zachary Quinto nailed the vulcan-human balance of Spock, and Eric Bana was quite the vengeful fellow as the movie's antagonist.  Even bit appearances by Wynonna Rider, Bruce Greenwood and the illustrious Leonard Nimoy (as Spock too - part of the interesting plot twist) felt right.  Again, no big spoiler here, but in the end the good guys win and Kirk becomes the undisputed captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise.  The fact that you know this is coming before you set foot in the theater, and yet you still leave duly entertained, means they did a great job getting you there.

So - what's the difference between the two?  Why did one bomb and the other excel?  Well, to be fair I have to acknowledge that the new Star Trek film is not a remake but a prequel.  So it's not having to duplicate outright as TDTESS had to.  Then again, the Star Trek folks knew they were playing within a box they couldn't deviate much outside of, lest they receive the wrath of Star Trek nation.  They could tell a new story, but it had to be pretty darn close to the first one.

Here's my gripe about TDTESS.  First, it seems to make the failed assumption that a great story line automatically translates to a great movie.  Just because it worked the first time doesn't guarantee you success again.  Throughout the movie I kept having the feeling that they were messing up what could've been a good thing - it had so much potential, but they were blowing it at most every turn.  Good stories must be told well in order to be received well.  My other complaint about TDTESS is one that seems to undermine a lot of movies these days - especially sci-fi movies, and especially as technology changes the way movies are made.  And that is that a movie can't stand on special effects alone.  They did some pretty incredible special effects in TDTESS to be sure - but if the story line surrounding it is not strong enough, it doesn't mean much.  In fact, it winds up looking silly.

What did Star Trek do right?  Good casting, I felt; along with a great story line and special effects at just the right amount (not too much, not too little).  The movie also took a few risks here and there that seemed to pan out (the romantic relationship between Spock and Uhura being one - talk about a risk!)  I don't know if J.J. Abrams and the gang put years of thought into how all of this would go down, or if they just got reeeaaaally lucky.  Either way, they seemed to have hit all the right notes - and not just with the Trekkies, but with folks who had no real tie to any of the previous incarnations.  Now that takes some mad skill.

One day when I'm a movie maker I'll keep all of this in mind.  Till then friends, enjoy the movies.  Or, should I say, live long and prosper. 

You had to know that was coming, didn't you?  Please say you did.

One last thought:

 

Magnificent

Check this out, folks: the official video for U2's Magnificent, filmed in Morocco where the band recorded their latest album, No Line On The Horizon.

I'm not crazy about the radio edit version, but that's the way things are in the music video biz. The sheets are cool, although I don't quite understand what they're all about.  Here's one interpretation I found intriguing.  Any other thoughts?

If you're interested, you can always read my review of the album here.

The Mountains in my Heart

My grandfather gave his life for you
And if you go, what a way to depart
To spread your wings and forever stay
In the mountains in your heart

This lyric comes from the last verse of a song I wrote called Mountains In My Heart (you can watch a YouTube clip of Acoustic Blend playing it live here if you want). It scratches the surface of a family story that's been part of me for almost all my life; one I got to experience up close and personal for the first time this weekend.

Granddad (my father's father) was an avid hiker and instilled a love for the mountains in my Dad, who in turn passed it on to my brother and me.  In 1971, while hiking Mount LeConte near Gatlinburg TN with a group of friends, Granddad slipped off a rocky slope and fell hundreds of feet to his death.  Yeah, I know - it's kind of surreal in that I've always known this and have simply accepted it as part of our family's story.  I keep on forgetting how horrifying it is and am always surprised by the look on people's faces, which I imagine is similar to the look on your face as you were just reading it.

I was just three at the time and remember nothing about it, or him.  I only know the man through the stories and pictures my parents have shared with me over the years. The cool thing, though, is that our family has embraced this tragedy, to the point where hiking in general - and LeConte specifically - has become a celebration of his life and the love our family shares together.  It's just that I'd never actually hiked the trail like the rest of my family - bits and pieces as a kid; but never the whole thing to the very top. 

So for my Dad's 65th birthday (which was back in early April), my brother and I decided to forego the usual card and tie for a special present: a weekend hiking trip with his two sons to Mount LeConte.  Not only would this be a great way to engage my granddad's spirit in a way I never had before, but this would be the first time that the "Lindsley men" had ever done a trip together like this.   So here's the play-by-play of a weekend I'll remember for quite some time.

FRIDAY

I met my brother and father at Panera Bread in Winston-Salem around 10 in the morning to begin our trip together (they were coming from Raleigh).  We hit I-40 with our eyes set on Asheville, where my Mom and Dad are from.  It's also the home of three of my cousins, one of whom has recently opened Rocky's Hot Chicken Shack.  We timed it to be there right around lunchtime.  Perfect.

Rocky and I are both the same age but haven't seen each other this century.  My memories of Rocky are as a kid, when I would go to visit him and admire his drumset and assortment of KISS collectibles. Not sure if he still has the collectibles, but Rocky still plays drums in a band - so we share the musical bond.  It was great seeing Rocky and my other cousins Angie and Beth.  The chicken, by the way, was excellent.

From Asheville we took the road less traveled and chose the Blue Ridge Parkway over the interstate and highways.  This added a good hour to our trek to Gatlinburg but man - what scenery!  As if divinely ordained, the sun poked out for the next three hours and we were treated to some unbelievable scenes.  Along the way we took a trip down memory lane and listened to Fleetwood Mac's Rumours and the Doobie Brothers' Toulouse Street.  These albums were among the standard listening material on Lindsley family trips back when my brother and I were kids.  Suffice to say we weren't crazy about it at the time, but nowadays its different.  Sometimes appreciation does indeed come with age.

We got to our hotel room about 5:30 and went searching for a cool beverage before enjoying some broiled rainbow trout beside a mountain stream.  First day of our little excursion could not have gone any better.  The next day would be when the real work began.

SATURDAY

The backpack to the right was my granddad's when he fell off LeConte.  It was in shambles when they found it, but Dad had it repaired.  As he has on every hiking trip since, Dad wore it on our trek up the mountain.

We got an early start to the day by grabbing a big breakfast at a restaurant in Gatlinburg appropriately called Flapjacks - read "carbs!"  Something we would surely be needing.  We drove to the trail head and hit Alum Cave trail around 9:30.

If you don't know the specifics of Mount LeConte, here's the skinny: it's the fourth highest peak east of the Mississippi, some 6596 feet above sea level according to my Dad (who has a knack for remembering these things). There are a number of trails that lead to the summit, but the one we took - Alum Cave - is a little over five miles long.  It's also the one where Granddad fell, so for the Lindsley family it's the only real LeConte trail.

The first mile or so was a pretty easy hike and the weather cooperated wonderfully.  That all changed, though, when the expected rains finally came. It wasn't a downpour, but it was steady and made hiking somewhat difficult - not only with wet clothes, but with trails that soon turned into little flowing creek beds.  We thought a couple of times about turning around, but nevertheless pressed on. I'm glad we did.

Not too far from the top - maybe a half-mile away or so - we came to the spot where, as best Dad can figure, Granddad fell 38 years ago.  It's tough to know for sure because landscape around the trail changes over the years - trees come and go, underbrush grows, etc.  The place where he fell was, at the time, a slick rock slope that went straight down.  That being said, Dad was pretty certain the spot pictured to the left is where it happened.

Photos, as we know, rarely do justice to what's actually there.  That was certainly the case with this scene. It's probably hard to tell, but the drop-off here was frighteningly steep (you can see a little better in the picture below, where my Dad is standing beside it - see how it falls off suddenly?)  Add to that the fact that it once was a slick rock face and an icy January, and you can see why my Granddad didn't survive the fall. 

The three of us stood there for a few minutes or so, got some pictures, talked a bit.  My brother and Dad had hiked this trail before and seen this spot, but for me it was the first time that I had actually been able to put a scene with a story I had heard all my life.  It kind of brought about a sense of closure for me; a good kind of closure. I felt his spirit; I had the song in my head the whole time.

The next few hundred yards were the toughest of the trek - steep inclines, driving rain, and wind gusts that we figured were in the 30-35 mph range.  Nevertheless, we reached the peak around 1pm and headed straight to the rustic LeConte Lodge to dive into our lunches (trust me, a turkey and swiss sandwich never tastes better than after hiking five miles in the rain).  I even caught a nifty little video of the occasion with my new camera:

After drying off and resting our legs, we began our trek back down around 2. Two thing about going down the mountain after you've made the hike up: first, it's harder on your legs than you think it'll be (especially on the knees).  Second, it takes much longer than you feel it should.  Going down is easy, right?  Not really.  Going down the mountain did treat us to some beautiful scenery, as the rain came to an end for the most part and the sky opened up a bit.  Granted, it would've been unbelievable on a clear blue-sky kinda day (like the previous weekend!), but even so it was still pretty awesome.  Case in point:

 

See what I mean?  And that's in the rain, folks.

We got to our car right at 5pm, changed shoes and some clothes, and drove the two hours to Asheville to spend the night.  Showered and had Mexican and a few cold beverages before crashing.

SUNDAY

Surprisingly, I woke up the next morning not at all sore.  Small blessings.  We found a great little place to have brunch in downtown Asheville called the GreenSage Coffeehouse & Cafe.  Not only was the food and coffee amazing, but everything was fair trade/organic; and they even had a self-busing system that allowed you to recycle/compost your scraps.  A model for other restaurants to follow, I'd say.

After brunch Dad took us on a trip down memory lane and drove us all around town, showing us the house he grew up in, his grade school, the drugstore where he used to work.  He went on and on with it and was having a ball.  I can't imagine how much of a treat this must've been for him to take his two grown sons on such a nostalgic journey, pointing out every memory he could muster.  My brother and I had no connection to these places, of course; but our father did and that's what made it special for us. After that we visited with one of my brother's friends for about an hour and then headed east to home.

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In short, this trip was everything I had hoped it would be.  It was an incredible occasion to spend some much-needed and much-appreciated time with my brother and father; to reconnect with them on a very fundamental level.  Whether we were talking music, reminiscing on Dad's memories of Asheville, or struggling to make it in the cold rain up the side of a mountain, every moment I spent with these guys was time well spent.

The trip also enabled me to revisit the life of my Granddad and to feel his presence in a way I had never felt before.  Like I said, the guy died when I was three.  I have no memories of my own of him, and I hate that.  But if hiking this trail and mountain he loved - and seeing the spot where he died doing what he enjoyed the most - is all I can have, I'll gladly take it.  And I seriously doubt this will be the last time LeConte and I get to hang out together.  You can bet your Alum Cave on that.