carpet padding valentine
screening all the live long day
daddy's paycheck
a million stories
birthday guests
Wilco
My father is an incredible man who has taught me the value and honor of quiet humility. He is a teacher, a servant, a husband and a father. He is a brother and a son and a friend who listens and counsels without judgment. He is 56 years of age and has returned to school to study Church history, theology and Hebrew among other subjects while embarking on a new chapter of life. He can still sink a three pointer and run up and down a basketball court alongside 20-something punks and put them to shame. I look at the photo above all washed over time in shades of ocher and umber and I see the same joy and love in that new father's eyes as I see thirty years later. I don't believe I've ever been left to wonder whether my father has loved me. As I anticipate fatherhood, I hope to be half the father that mine has been.
On Saturday evening I attended the high school graduation of my good friend, fellow Pilot and The Mustard Room patron Ryan 'Shamous' Helvie. In the three and a half years which I spent as youth ministry equipper at center grove church, my relationship with Ryan had been one of those which had been rife with honesty and restless pursuit of genuine faith. In many ways, Ryan reminded me of myself when I was his age, but he also showed maturity well beyond his years. Though he grew up in the church with parents who deeply loved and cared for him, he would not allow himself to simply ignore questions of faith which kept him awake at night. He constantly expressed a desire to experience the gospel message which other's seemed to be content simply discussing. From the time I've known him as an eighth grade student, we have shared a friendship of openness which has helped to shape both of us into who we are today.Hey this is Shamous and...
I’m not going to lie, after a series of bribes involving large quantities of the beverage which shall forthwith be referred to as the, “Coops” I’ve been talked into writing a review for Broken Record’s newest release by Joel Rockey, Marquette®. Even though I said I wasn’t going to lie at the beginning of this paragraph; I already have. No; I wasn’t bribed with coops (nobody has a large enough supply of the drink), in fact nobody even remotely asked me to write a review, I’ll even go so far as to say that if the guys at Broken Records knew about this piece of literature (and they don’t) they’d do everything in their power to prevent it from reaching The Mustard Room. But, Shamous is gonna do what Shamous is gonna do so pick up the phone it’s me, you. Anyway I’d like to pause for a brief moment and stab myself in the thigh with a rather sharp kitchen utensil and then re-gather my thoughts.
Alright, where was I? Oh yes, Marquette®, the latest installment in the plethora of Joel Rockey’s albums. First off, I love this record, the way the raging down-tuned guitars simply scream over the ferocious pounding and beating of drums all the while backing howling vocals of pain is simply head-banging, weight lifting, coops drinking music.This deadly record is definitely more ticked off, hungry, and a heck of a lot angrier than any previous works, and is topped off with a heavy dose of brutality, all served up by coops driven mad men like Joel, whose goal is as with every record to use music as weapon of sonic destruction.
Thus, I’ve lied again and in doing so destroyed the new record’s image with this review; I don’t know what got into me, I may have consumed to many of the beverage now known as coops, Sorry. Truth is, I’ve never heard the album but I’m sure I haven’t done it justice with this review so just disregard this whole thing and I’ll leave you with this quote which includes a large amount hip-hop slang--“ Not all dorks have this haircut but only dorks have this haircut."
With all the honesty I can muster,
Shamous
Running Time: 58:14 | File Size 54 MB
Download: .mp3
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It's May and the thoughts of those around the Rockey home turn to those of fancy. Three is the magic number, but I hear the good Lord gives no more than we can handle. So kiss your mama and fire up the blinky, it's another day trippin' episode of your friendly interweb DJ e-spinnin' tunes both old and new for the very few who was askin'.
1. De La Soul “The Magic Number”
2. Le Switch “Tongue Tied ”
3. Feist “1234”
4. A Tribe Called Quest “Jazz (We've Got)”
5. The Kinks “Village Green”
6. Meiko Kaji “Urami Bushi”
7. Garrison Keillor & Jearlyn Steele “Coffee Jingle”
8. Howard Tate “8 Days on the Road”
9. Neko Case “Things That Scare Me”
10. Shirtless Biddles “Mamie”
11. Young MC “Know How”
12. Sergio Mendes & Brasil '66 “Day Tripper”
13. Groucho Marx “Excellent Chances”
14. Arcade Fire “Intervention”
15. X “The New World”
16. Bobby Fuller Four “I Fought the Law”
17. Wilco “Hate It Here”
18. The Who “Two Thousand Years”
This photo of my mother and I has always been a favorite of mine. I don't necessarily know why. I find myself staring into the eyes of that little being wondering what it must have been like for my mother to hold her first born child. Did she wonder even then what would become of this tiny life whom she carried inside her body for months? I'm sure there were plenty of times later in life when she longed for those days when she could just wrap me up and hold me in her arms. I spent lunch this mother's day around my grandmother's dining room table with my brother and my wife. I've been fortunate to have some amazing women in my life who have loved me and who have taught me to love: My mother, my wife, my grandmother who suffers through her alzheimer's inflicted husband, my grandmother whose passionate faith and love for her family have not been dampened by death, my mother-in-law. Where would I be without these women? I'd be nowhere... and I'd be there without clean underwear.
I was recently digging through the archives in search of tracks for inclusion on the next volume of If Awesome Were a Compact Disc. It gave me the long overdue opportunity to revisit the quintessential hip-hop album of my youth, Stone Cold Rhymin' by Marvin Young (aka Young MC).
My wife and I spent Sunday evening catching up with our friend Elisa on the southside of Broad Ripple. We spent a good deal of our time together taking advantage of the beautiful Spring weather while talking about ice cream, enjoying ice cream and talking about enjoying ice cream all before I passed out on Elisa's couch... not from the ice cream, mind you, but from the sheer lack of sleep the previous night before opening up shop at the S*Bux that morning.
Another night of booty-shakin' soul-awakin' musical frivolity is on the horizon. Flying J & the Pilots will be joining Shirtless Biddles at The Bean Cup (8908 South Saint Peter Street, Indianapolis, Indiana 46227) this Saturday, April 28th at 7pm. The Bean Cup is a new coffee shop just north of the Greenwood Park Mall off of County Line Road. Saint Peter Street sits right between the Sparkling Image car wash and the building previously occupied by Guitars & More.
Running Time: 1:00:41 | File Size 56 MB
Download: .mp3
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Flowin' like a harpoon daily and nightly is expected around the Rockey home. This week your host takes you on a tour with the super ghetto british spy pimp on a quest for revenge across the spaghetti midwest at the end of the summer of love. Stare into the eyes of the Diamond and lose yourself. Grrrrowl.
1. Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass “Casino Royale Theme”
2. Neil Diamond “We”
3. The Avett Brothers “Will You Return?”
4. Brandi Carlile “The Story”
5. Neil Young “A Man Needs a Maid/Heart of Gold Suite”
6. Gob Iron “Silicosis Blues”
7. James Brown “Down and Out in New York City”
8. T.Rex “Planet Queen (Acoustic Version)”
9. 16 Horsepower “Single Girl”
10. Bill Mallonee “After All This Dust Settles Down”
11. Ben Kweller “Penny on a Train Track”
12. Ben Harper “Show Me a Little Shame”
13. Steve Martin “Hostages”
14. Charlie Feathers “Can't Hardly Stand It”
15. Ani DiFranco “Subconscious”
16. The Kingston Trio “Greenback Dollar”
17. The Greenhornes w/ Holly Golightly “There is an End”
It started with young boy and his dream to take Karate... not from the Y, but from a good school. That boy was Daniel LaRusso, his school was a small Okinawan named Miyagi and it is the greatest music sharing club ever known. My brother Jeremy and I--along with every other 2o-something/ 30-something man--have often found common ground in recalling the tales of these and other underdog characters from the films of our childhood. When off-hand phrases such as "Don't know, first time," and "Look at the chicken, he's wild!" are spoken among those who know of their original context, a bond is shared between the parties which unfamiliar bystanders simply cannot understand.
