Bonnie Raitt, Hashbrownes & Mo

"Howdy, dude." Ernie the morning cook at Papa Ray's Family Restaurant in Centralia greeted me as he slid into my booth. "How's everything?" When Ernie sees me come in he throws potatoes on the grill. I always ask for my hashbrowns "burnt black, burnt black, burnt black . . . with an onion cut up in them." Ernie always complies, but likes to make sure that I got them like I want 'em. "Perfect," I said between crunchy, gravey covered bites.

This particular morning in late April Ernie had news for me. We both share a love for music. Ernie scours the thrift shops for rare "platters." I go to concerts. "I just heard that there's going to be a concert in Seattle with Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne and Keb Mo." It sounded like a strange paring, but I like strange things. Ernie knows that in addition to well-done hashbrowns I like Keb Mo and his Delta Blues.

As soon as I could get online I started looking for the concert. I found zip. I continued looking for the next couple of days and then cursed Ernie for his worthless, erroneous information.

A week before the concert in late May I saw a listing in Seattle paper for the concert at the Paramount. Ernie had been right and once again I had been let down by missing concert information on the internet. I tried to book tickets from the Paramount webpage (where there had previously been no information), but got no response. Phone calls to the Paramount only resulted in busy signals. My wife Peggy finally got tickets via scalpers at twice the listed price of $48.50 for the best seats. We had almost the same luck with accomodations. We like to stay in Seattle when we attend concerts rather than drive back to our home in North Tacoma.

Peg called our favorite hotels. They were all full. There were several conventions in town. She finally found a Bed & Breakfast, but they would only rent to us if we stayed for two nights. Later in the day after booking at the B & B we received word that another place could accomodate us for Friday evening, the night of the concert. We were amazed they had a vacancy especially after we checked into The Gaslight Inn.

We were up-graded to a very nice suite on the third floor of an old Capital Hill home. The suite is the third floor. The stairways get narrower and narrower as you climb from floor to floor. It was worth the climb. There is a picture window in the sitting room that looks out over Seattle. The furnishings are a nice mixture of antiques and modern. The kitchen came with tea bags, coffee, and a pint of half and half in the fridge.

The Gaslight is actually two homes that sit side by side. The main building has a nice pool is the backyard. Our building had a parking lot as a backyard. I'm not complaining. We could have used the pool. We did use the parking lot.

Both homes had plenty of art, on the walls, on the furniture and hanging from the ceiling. In our room there was a chandelier. It was wrought iron with a circular base. There were no actual lights on it. There was a round piece of clear glass with three pieces of overlapping hand-blown glass plates sitting on the base. Spotlights from the ceiling shown through the glass art. Other pieces of hand-blown glass (matching) are found throughout.

If you're going to attend a concert in Seattle, you just have to eat in Seattle. We had dinner at the Desert Fire. We were short of time so we only ordered an appetizer plate. We've had it before, so we knew that it would be enough. It was served quickly. We ate and hurried off to the concert.

The concert was a benefit for the Songbird Foundation. The forests of Central and South America are being cut down. Some of our local songbirds winter in Brazil. Without their habitat, we may lose the songbirds. The forests are being cleared so that coffee can be grown. The best coffee is grown in the shade, but of course you can get a better yield by growing coffee in the sun. We can save the songbirds by drinking coffee that has been grown in the shade. Voting with your cup. That's my kind of support.

The concert was one of the best concerts Peg and I have ever attended. The mood was relaxed, fun, and spontaneous. Keb Mo (Kevin Moore) was introduced early before the stage hands had the mics and stands set up. Kevin came out and started speaking into a microphone which was whipped out from under him. He moved to the next one and said, "Usually they just tell me to get out of the way."

Almost everyone performed accompanied only by their own guitar. Instead of sounding hollow with missing background singers and instrumentation, however the music took on a homey feel. It felt like the performers were good friends who stopped by not to entertain, but to share their music. The concert felt comfortable. At one point Bonnie mentioned that she had changed the lyrics of one song. "I'll be right back, " she said as she ran off the stage. She came back a few seconds later and explained that even though she's over fifty she doesn't need glasses. She placed the lyrics on the floor about five feet in front of her and sat down at an electric piano.

Near the end everyone joined together. Bonnie called Kevin out to sing even though he didn't know the song. Then Bonnie made Jackson take a verse that started out, "When I was a young girl." The crowd as well as the performers were enjoying themselves. My favorite song was done by Keb Mo. It was "Victim of Comfort". Aren't we all?

The music was wonderful. The concert was fun. I owe Ernie an apology and my thanks. The next time I order hashbrowns I'll make sure he gets a decent tip, if they're "burnt black, burnt black, burnt black . . . with an onion cut up in them."

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Appreciating The Beauty Of Classic Automobiles

I grew up in the muscle car era of the 1960's and early 1970's, where there was enough time to still influence me before the gas crisis of $1 per gallon gas. These teen years left a lasting impression from that point on where a car must have big V8, loud rumbling exhaust, and big tires, otherwise it did not get a second glance. It was the power hungry performance cars from Detroit's Big Three. The Mustang, the Camaro, the Firebird as well as the Chevelles, and Chargers to just name a few that you could hear coming a mile before they arrived. They got my attention! Over the years as I've traveled around to car shows my appreciation for the automobile expanded. The common thread that intrigued me about all of the car owners was, the pride they took in their vehicle, but what was I missing? Many of these cars did not meet my criteria of a big V8, loud rumbling exhaust, and big tires, so what's the big deal? The intent of this article is to open your mind and recognize the elegance, grace, and styling of cars before you were born, to the present.

It seems that many automotive enthusiasts have at one time encountered a similar dilemma. There are the Mustang specific clubs, the Ford Model A clubs, even the Orange Colored Car club. Everyone has they primary interests, but if you look beyond this, you can see the elegance, style, and beauty that was finely crafted by the automotive artists. Imagine looking through the viewfinder on a camera as you focus on composing the perfect image. With your naked eye, many of the details may not initially jump out. However, when you see the image as the camera does, you notice the shadows, the lighting, and the elements of the vehicle that appear to be magnified and stand out. This focusing forces you to not only look complete vehicle, but down to the individual details that make it up. These details are the core elements of that the artist creates. Like each stroke of the brush, each curve in the chrome makes up the masterpiece.

You do not have to look far to see what I am talking about. Look at a 1958 Chevrolet Belair with its massive grille, large amounts of chrome and the intricacy of the trim accent pieces all flowing together like a sculpture. Unless you pay attention to even the most minuet areas you will not see the entire masterpiece. A person once told me that when he didn't win people choice awards, his wife would say, "Did A Red Car Win?" This statement has some truth. I have seen that if there were two almost identical cars, the red or brightly colored one usually faired better even if it was not in as good of condition. The point I am trying to make is first impression is exactly that, first impression. Whereas, a seasoned judge, goes to the next level looking at the quality of the paint, and in concours judging down to the finish on the bolts. Within this spectrum is where the real artistic nature is.

I recently did some photography and show board work on a 1957 Ford Fairlane 500 that I initially seen at a local car show. When I first seen this car what stood out was its massive size, and the glistening shine of the perfect black paint. This was my first impression as it caught my attention. After talking with the owner, Joe, and learning more about his car, the real beauty of this classic vehicle was evident. You could almost see the air flowing along the sleek and graceful body lines as the 30 spokes of each wheel reflected like mirrors. It was obvious that he was focused on a perfect display, ensuring that there was a blinding shine on the chrome and paint, and every component, even the underside was perfect. One could only imagine the many hours and years spent getting to this level of perfection.

The next time you see one of these classics driving down the road, or at a car show try to vision what the automobile artists has in mind. To get a jump start on seeing these classics there is a nice selection of pictures showing exactly what I have talked about at www.PalmieriConcepts.com. The information and pictures on this site will give you many examples of these classics as well as alternative ways of composing your pictures into works of art. Palmieri Concepts focuses on transforming your everyday pictures into custom art, and as a result, attention to detail is key.

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