A travelers Thanksgiving tale.....

     In my travels, I have found myself in many different foreign lands during Holidays that are, traditionally, only observed in the USA. I've learned to either ignore the exact "date" on the calender or try to enjoy my own special version of the event, no matter where I was at the time. If you really want to make it unique and special, it CAN be done, but you have to be creative.
     I do recall loading up two big suitcases with frozen turkeys (this was LONG before the current weight and size restrictions) and flying into Tahiti just before the Thanksgiving Holiday. My friends at the Bali Hai Hotel in Moorea had requested them for a special version of their weekend "fete" (feast). This was an ongoing tourist attraction that included traditional Tahitian dancers and a feast of roast pork and other items cooked in the "hima'a" or buried cooking pit. This time, for Thanksgiving, the idea (and I am not quite sure who's it was) was to cook some turkeys in the same manner. The buried pit usually provided a wonderful smoked flavor to the pork, so it was thought that the same could be done with the turkeys. It actually turned out extremely well and was also a special treat for many of the Tahitian locals who had never eaten "dindon" (French word for "turkey")

   But this tale is of a different time and a different place..............

On one of my trips to my favorite city in the world, Venice, Italy, I had not thought, in my planning, that I would be visiting during the week of Thanksgiving. I had gotten the best flight schedule at a good price and, as is my usual way of traveling, figured out the details AFTER the plans were made. As the day became closer, I decided to have a "special" meal at one of my favorite restaurants---Al Covo. Ristorante Al Covo was a short walk from the Palazzo where I traditionally stayed. I had eaten there previously and enjoyed the ambiance and wonderful food. 

It is owned by Chef Cesare Benelli and his lovely (American) wife Diane. Though they specialized in seafood cuisine, they have a varied menu and I knew I could count on SOME combination of food that would satisfy my "Thanksgiving dinner" desired meal. (I remember having wild Pheasant there and knew, from a stay at a hotel in the Veneto plain area near Venice, that it was hunted and served in restaurants far more frequently than in the USA) SO----I made sure that they were open and available and scheduled my visit.

Now---unlike most of the USA, throughout Europe, dinner does not usually "get going" at restaurants until 8:30pm or later. By 9:30, a good restaurant is usually packed with people coming in for dinner for an hour or so after that. This is not to say that you cannot GO to a restaurant earlier, it is just rare to see too many people there before 8:00pm (In fact----I have found, from 7:15 until 7:45 is when you can usually find the waiters or maitre d standing outside in their aprons or suits, smoking a last cigarette, taking a break after setting up the restaurant and generally gossiping about the day)

I once went to a wonderful restaurant in Oderzo that was actually built on platforms over a Roman ruin. I got there early and, after inspecting the archaeological site, walked to the front counter and asked to be seated. It was about 7pm and there was no one else there. I was seated, but soon realized that I had ALL of the restaurant employees standing against the wall near the kitchen entrance, giving me the "evil eye!" NOT a mistake I did again!!

BUT---I will admit that I like to walk that "fine line" between coming in TOO early and disturbing their "prepping" the restaurant and coming in later with the crowd. Though it is entertainment in it's own to watch the activity and "ballet" of waiters and servers and "busboys" whirling around the patrons in a crowded restaurant, I prefer to sit and relax and absorb the special "feel" of a place. So, for my visit to Al Covo, I went for a walk along the Grande Canal and then headed toward the Arsenale area and the Ristorante.

 Upon entering the restaurant, the counter and kitchen is on the left and the sitting area to the right. Diane was, as always, behind the counter and welcomed me in. She is always very kind and gracious and, speaking English, makes you feel welcome and relaxed with a combination of Italian "Buonasera/Good evening." The restaurant has a two leveled sitting area and, as there were only two other tables with people already seated, I chose one near the side wall, on the next level up from the floor. 

After I was seated and comfortable, I looked around and found that a gentleman of about my same age, was sitting diagonally off to my left, on the next level down, facing me. I nodded at him when he looked my way and he smiled and raised his glass as a greeting. I cannot remember my exact selection but I do recall that it was a bit more than my usual and a bit more extravagant in the selection. I also ordered a glass of Prosecco to start and a bottle of my favorite Italian wine---from Sardinia. 

  As I settled in to my chosen meal, I could not help noticing that my "dinner companion" from across the room, was being brought numerous platters of food. Over and over, he would finish off one item, then drink some wine and adjust the large white napkin he had tucked into his shirt collar, and then go to work on the next selection delivered. He caught me looking at him one time, and I raised my glass and said "Salute!" and he smiled a big smile and ---dove right back in. It was an impressive display of the simple joy of enjoying great food without any hesitation. It made me feel good to watch him. Not only IN his enjoyment but it certainly put MY own thoughts of over-indulging during my selected Holiday feast in their place. He finally slowed down and then sat back and "ahhhhed." Diane went to his table and had a brief talk with him and when she returned, she brought him a small "snifter" glass----and then brought one of the same to me. "From your friend," she said, and indicated the man. "The finest grappa," she noted. I rose the glass high toward him and he nodded, did the same, and said  "Per la vita" (To life!)

Indeed. As I walked home afterward, I thought of all of the meaning and reasons for enjoying such a wonderful "soddisfazione" (satisfaction) on Thanksgiving and laughed at the pure joy of it all.

"People who love to eat are always the best people"  Julia Child

 
      I recently was reviewing a few of my designs and realized that I had, unknowingly, created numerous variations of select items. Now---I prefer to create items from ideas in my head. I rarely sketch them out on paper. I will simply sit down with my choice of carving wax and create. It is really just a form of miniature sculpture. Of course, the over 45 years experience I have, allows me to know and understand just what I CAN create. The correct depth of a setting for a gem or the thickness needed for strength in a ring band, for example, is all information "filed" away----which allows me the freedom to create as I go.
    The "thrill" of designing and creating is watching it, almost magically, appear in my hand. "Conjuring" an idea from my mind into a finished item of jewelry provides that thrill that all artists feel when creating. When I tell someone that a design I have created for them is a "one of a kind", there are times when I am sure they do not completely understand what that means. I have actually had to explain---"There is not another piece of art like this in the world. Never has been and never will be again. Similar? Maybe, but identical? Never!"
   The photo above, of my friend and muse, Gabriella Delgado, shows her wearing a set of South Sea mabe pearl earrings and matching pendant in 14kt yellow gold. The teardrop shaped pearls worked perfectly in the chevron shape I had envisioned. Possibly taken from the logo/symbol for my old favorite classic Citroen DS 21 Pallas? Maybe. I never think about where these ideas come from but DO realize "after the fact" that there, obviously, are "connections."
  And those original pieces shown were first created over 10 years ago. Recently, as mentioned, I created similar items---without really realizing that they were closely connected.

  Though the chevron shape of the original design has been "flipped" over, the idea is still there. I look at these and can see that I was rolling around the idea in my mind---almost trying to find the perfect version. And, of course----there is no "perfect" version. What I feel is the most attractive always has the possibility of being the least favorite of a customer. All in the eye of the beholder, as the old cliche states.
   I have sat and played a song over and over on an instrument, trying different tempos and versions, in much the same way---creating "on the fly." With some forms of art, the idea has to be complete in your mind before you can finalize it. But that is one of the many reasons I love creating jewelry. The fluidity of the creative process allows me to "go with the flow" and alter and change and fine tune as I work on the item---all in the hope of hitting that "sweet spot" of a complete design.
 (hmmmm----just realized I somehow hit on 3 or 4 cliche/phrases in those last 2 paragraphs----not bad!)
  And who knows------maybe there are more of that same style needing to be created to continue trying to find that "one."

Lessons in Aloha.......

Aloha. It's a word people think they know but never really can define. The modern interpretation, used since the 1950's and "understood" by many a mainland visitor, has a mixed use as "hello", "goodbye"  and an overall  idea of "love."
When I first went to French Polynesia in 1976, I thought maybe it was a word that was used throughout the Pacific islands. What did I know? I had never been to Hawaii and only knew of the word from television shows. Wrong. There is not even a word that comes close to it in Tahitian. The Tahitian traditional greeting is "Ia orana." Sometimes that is slurred together into a "I'ora" but my understanding was that even that is quite modern.
 I found that there is a similar Samoan word "alofa" and a Maori word "aroha" that mean "love" but they do not include a greeting or other salutation in their meaning. Now, it is easy to see that the written interpretation when taken down back in the mists of time by a missionary trying to understand what is being said to him, easily ends up with the words "alofa", "aroha" and "aloha" all actually being the same word-----altered over time and distance.
It is stated that pre-white man, the word "anoai" was the closest Hawaiian word to "aloha" and yet even other greeting words were used.
SO---when I moved to Maui in 1991, I had some interest in finding out the real meaning behind it. The first thing I noticed, was that I was making a real ass out of myself walking around saying "Aloha" to everyone I would meet! It became apparent that this was NOT the way things were done in Hawaii! (contrary to the image promoted by the travel industry, etc)
 This was especially odd to me because I had learned in Tahiti to greet everyone with  "Ia orana" (and the added "E aha te huru?"--How are you?) Whether this was something transferred from the French habit of doing the same ---a MUST of social courtesy, greeting people with a "bonjour" and then an "au revoir" when leaving---or not, who knows? But it was something I learned and had locked into my mind for " life in the islands." EVERY Tahitian man that you met or were introduced to shook your hand after the obligatory "Ia orana" (though a very limp, one clasp hand shake, still, a hand shake) and every Tahitian woman expected and gave a kiss on each cheek. Again---probably part of the French influence but charming none the less.
I had the whole importance of greeting people and sharing affection in Tahiti really defined for me one morning while out running my usual 5 mile exercise. It was a grey, slightly rainy early morning---just after sunrise, so about 6am---and I was slogging along nearing the halfway mark of my run. I would go 2 1/2 miles around the corner of Cook's Bay from my bungalow in Pao Pao, Moorea, and then turn around near the Bali Hai Hotel and head back. I had just passed an elderly woman out raking her yard (something the women of the households did every day----clean up the fallen leaves and such) when she YELLED at me in Tahitian "Ita Ia orana e parauparau pour ton hoa Koki poipoi?" (basically "No hello and chat with your friend Koki this morning?") I turned and she was standing there with her rake in hand and the other on her hip---glaring at me! Koki was the mother of a friend of mine's girlfriend-----I may have actually met her once, but knew who she was---and was one of the revered "mama ru'au" of the area (grandma) I stopped. Walked back to her. Gave her a very sweet "Ia orana, Koki. E aha te huru?" with a kiss on both cheeks and had a little talk with her ---while I sweated and huffed and puffed and cooled down from my run. She finally gave me a "ei ei, Toma"---patting me on the cheek ("ei ei" being a simple expression of affection---an endearment) and sent me on my way. It was all very sweet---BUT!!! I got the idea---do NOT think that whatever you are doing is SO important that you can't take a second of your time to acknowledge a friend!
   So----as stated----here I was new to Hawaii---walking around tossing out "Aloha!'s" to everyone and getting a "What's wrong with you?" look---(with the unspoken--"haole boy!!" attitude tossed in.
   I soon after decided I would take a Hawaiian language class to help understand the difference between Tahitian (which I had a fair understanding and comprehension of) and Hawaiian. They turned out to be VERY similar languages with words almost identical---only a letter or two changed. For example: Tahitian "tupuna" and Hawaiian "kupuna" "Ancestor" in each language---only the "t" switched to a "k." Again---I could visualize some Missionary trying to write down what he heard and getting it just slightly varied. Same with Tahitian "fare" and Hawaiian "hale." "House" in both languages. In this case 2 letters changed but the interesting thing about THAT word is it is the same throughout the South Pacific--Samoan AND Tongan "fale", Fijian "vale" (and "bure"), etc.
   My teacher was a pure blood Hawaiian lady named Maile. She was about my age, of average build with a wicked scar on one side of her face that forced her mouth to turn up on that side and her eye to "droop." She explained that she had served two tours with the US Army as an interpreter during the Vietnam War. Not interpreting the Vietnamese but as an observer and female witness during interrogations with suspected Vietcong collaborators. She explained that her male counterpart was also Hawaiian and they were specifically assigned to question people---but talk back and forth with each other and compare observations in Hawaiian---so that the detainee would not know what was being discussed or observed. She also explained that having a general "feel" for the idea of "Aloha" allowed her to see beyond what they were SAYING they were doing and actually FEEL what they were up to.
  This, of course, interested me beyond learning the correct pronunciation of the language. She and I instantly got along very well---and she liked the fact that I could give Tahitian versions of phrases or words that she would bring up in our lessons. There were about 10 people in the class and it became very clear that some of them found it a "bit" annoying to have this banter going back and forth between the two of us, so we began to talk outside of class---mostly during extended telephone conversations. Some of these went on for hours and, it became obvious, were a chance for Maile to "vent" ("perhaps" with a bit of liquid "fuel" added) about her time in the military AND her views on the "conversion" of Hawaii into "tourist land."
  In one of these talks, she explained that the word "Aloha" was being misused. It was NOT a greeting, she said---or even "love"----it was a feeling of calm, open, compassion and sharing. She asked "You've met people who just FEEL good to be around? Who welcome you with their smile and you immediately relax and return the feeling? THAT"S 'aloha'." She said, "Part of the "old style" island life that I grew up with was EVERY time you stopped by someones house, it was expected that you should share the food, laugh and talk and exchange information about what was happening around the island, help with any gardening or gathering and even lay down to nap and talk quietly in the heat of the late afternoon." I told her that this life she was referring to as "in the past" is "kind of" what I had experienced in Tahiti. A MUCH slower lifestyle where sharing info and food and help was simply part of the way it was. I also told her that my Mother had that kind of glowing love that you could feel. Many times I had seen her whole face and persona change when she was around children or ladies of her own age. Maile said "Yes, that's it. If you are observant you can SEE the spirit of aloha that some people have. Of course, not everyone has this and there are those who are trying to convince other people they are something else. That is why I was so good in Vietnam. I KNEW what to watch for and knew how it SHOULD feel like when people were trying to be helpful and when they were just fooling. Sadly, I realized after a while that, as usual, the military was using my understanding of 'aloha" to their advantage and I was using it in the wrong way." She stopped----and then said----"and you get angry or sloppy and you make a mistake and you end up with a scar."  and that was the end of THAT conversation.
   I saw, and she helped define for me, the way that the "word" had been used by the tourism business to help create the image of the "Happy Land of Aloha." The "Aloha Tower" in Honolulu is at the harbor where the cruise ships used to dock. Hawaii ---a land taken from it's people---was turned into the "Aloha State." The image and use and presentation of the idea of Aloha is everywhere. Aloha, as the cynics say, is a word on a bumper sticker. But the meaning is still very much "there." Maybe a bit more difficult to find in its original sense---and maybe a bit misunderstood---but it's still there. It's a sense of understanding and compassion. A smile and a welcome instead of a frown and a question.
  I've tried my best but must admit that there are times when it is a struggle---just trying to have that openness. Especially when others are so determined to use it in the wrong way........

 Here's a little story that will help explain how confusing the whole idea of "Aloha" can be:

      I had been living in my little bungalow in Kihei, Maui for about 10 years at the time of this tale. It was a typical "plantation workers hale"---on stilts with a wide overhanging roof and windows all around. I had rented it cheap because the yard had been neglected and not watered in some time---and was basically sand and dust. There were a few dehydrated avocado trees, some plumeria and a lime tree. All surrounded by a dried up twisted vine hedge of lilikoi (passion fruit)
     A one block walk to the park and ocean---with the grocery store and movie theater a block over---I decided it was PERFECT and began repairing and pampering it. After ten years of effort, all of the trees had come back, the hedge was full of flowers and passion fruit and I had added a lime tree and assorted plants and vegetables in the garden. I had 3 different type of hybrid avocado and 5 different Plumeria trees ---all with different color and scented flowers. My own little tropical paradise. With the hedge blocking anyone from view, I found that I could leave the windows open and every morning open the front door for my dog to wander out into the yard----leaving it open for her and me all day to enjoy the scents and colors.
   SO one morning, I had gotten my cup of coffee, stepped down the 3 stairs into my yard, enjoying the breeze and watching my Lani dog wander and snuffle around the yard. I was standing there for some time when I noticed a lady in a straw hat, blonde and wearing a pareu as a skirt/wrap---partially hidden, standing underneath one of the plumeria trees---up near the entrance/corner of the yard. She was partially turned away from me, with  plastic bag in her hand, picking flowers off of the tree. I just watched her while sipping my coffee. She finally noticed me, and waving, said (in a trilly kind of high voice) "ALOHA!!"---and went back to what she was doing. I said nothing. Just kept watching her---sipping my coffee. She turned back to me and said "John always let me come and pick flowers to make lei when I visit." and again "ALOHA!!" I said, "I've been here 10 years. Was John the previous owner? because I rent from a gentleman over in Oahu named Myanglong." "Oh yes", she said, "he must have purchased it after John died." ---and went back to her gathering. I just stood there watching her. "I knew you wouldn't mind sharing with me ---like John." she said. "I'm not sharing----you're taking." I said, " How do you know I don't have a purpose behind watering and pampering these trees? "
     ( the truth was that there WAS a handicapped gentleman who very quietly stopped by every once and a while and came ---with the typical local call/sound "whoeee, whoeee" ------to ask if he could gather for his friends. He was a giant of a man and always very sweet---and, of course, I not only let him pick but quietly helped him)
   I now had started to walk over near her---still picking away---and I saw she had another bag at her feet with 3 lumps in it, which I guessed to be avocado. "Where do YOU live?", I asked. "Oh---up country," she replied. "OK, but what's your street address?" I asked again. She now stopped and looked at me, "Why?" (kind of chuckling) "Well, because I want to be able to come by and take whatever I want out of YOUR yard whenever I want to."----------silence-----------
   "I thought it would be OK. John always let me take whatever"
   "John's dead. I'm the one who's food and flowers you're taking."
   "You're mean."
   "You're a thief."
   "That's not very Aloha"
   "Aloha is sharing and willingness to help and understanding of the need for compassion. Aloha is me saying to you now---please take what you have with my blessing and come back any time---and ask."

    She huffed and gathered her things and trotted off to her rental car and, I am sure, enjoyed her flowers and avocado.
    I waved as she drove away and gave her a loud "ALOHA!" to take along with her.......

The Grande Ballroom and the 2nd British Rock Invasion....

I was reminded of this particular "era" of music in Detroit by the passing the other day of one of the Grande Ballroom poster artists, Gary Grimshaw. His art (along with Carl Lundgren and assorted others) was an integral part of the music scene in Detroit at that time, and especially revolving around the old Grande Ballroom. I also had noticed that a few weeks back, two parts of this tale had celebrated their birthdays--a few days apart--Jimmy Page and Rod Stewart.The following story tells of just how quickly music was evolving in those days and how dynamic and influential it all became----but first----a little "Grande" history:

The Grande Ballroom was re-invented from it's old status as a dancehall to a rock music performance club by the creative vision of junior high school teacher Russ Gibb. Russ taught Social Studies AND happened to be a DJ on a local radio station. He had gone out to San Francisco and met Bill Graham at his Fillmore Ballroom, liked the "scene" that he had witnessed and realized that the same exact thing could be done in Detroit. He also realized that he had one advantage over the what was happening on the "West Coast"----being a DJ, he had early access to all of "post-Beatles" new music coming out of England, Canada and the East Coast. He would get managers or record company promoters contacting him to push their records on the radio, and if he felt they had something worth presenting, he would arrange to have them perform at the Grande. One of his students, and a buddy of one of MY friends, called "Tiny Tim" by Russ, would stop by the radio station and sit for hours listening to the endless supply of new music. I went along with Tim a few times and we would sit on the floor while Russ had one turntable spinning music out on the radio (with the sound turned down and his headphones off of one ear), and another playing random new stuff ---and asking us what we thought. He actually had two shows---one in the afternoon and one late night. It wasn't until much later that I realized he was using those conversations with Tim and requests taken during the day show, to present new and unheard music during the late night hours.
One other thing I found that showed me just how smart he was at his new job as "promoter" -----if HE liked a band, he would make sure he knew who the "principle" player was---the "star"----and he would let them know that they were always welcome back. This became a very important part of the Grande's reputation and, as you will see, an integral part of this story.

So here we go------
    I had been a fan of the British "Rock" band, The Yardbirds, from their very start. Where the Beatles were a more vocal based rock band and the Rolling Stones seemed to be more blues based, the Yardbirds were, to me, a Rhythm & Blues combination of those two with one other important factor----HOT guitar work on all of their songs. I knew that Eric Clapton had been their guitarist for a time and then Jeff Beck had taken over. It was Jeff Beck's smoking guitar work on the song "I'm not Talking" that had caught my attention. When they added Jimmy Page on guitar, I made it a point to go and see them perform when (or IF) they came to Detroit. (I was aware that Jimmy Page was the studio guitarist who's work on the Kink's "You Really Got Me" and "All day and all of the Night" literally MADE those songs hits) I did end up seeing them at the Michigan State Fairgrounds in a show that also featured Eric Burdon and the Animals. I was impressed...
   The rumor mill spilled out the information that soon after that show, Jeff Beck was "dismissed" from the band for numerous "no-shows" and his last performance with them was in late 1966 in Texas.
   Meanwhile, the Grande Ballroom had become very well known for the weekend shows there. The endless stream of great acts, today, reads like a "who's who" of top performers. Procol Harum, Fleetwood Mac, Ten Years After, Pink Floyd, Savoy Brown, Jethro Tull and assorted others out of England. (The Who solidified the "fame" of the Grande by performing their rock opera "Tommy" there first) Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother & the Holding Company, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Blue Cheer, the Doors, the Byrds and an equally long list of West Coast artists----PLUS local Michigan talent and acts from Toronto and the East Coast. You could go to the Grande any weekend and be guaranteed great music (and for the amazingly low price of $1 or $2.....crazy!)
   So when the Yardbirds returned for what was to become their last tour (w/Jimmy Page as their lead guitarist), they played at the Grande.

Times had changed---quickly. At the previous show, I had seen the Yardbirds finish up their VERY strong performance with, what had become a standard part of rock live showmanship---smashing their instruments and "blowing up" their amplifiers. (I also happened to notice that the speaker cabinets that "exploded" in smoke and flash fire were, in fact, props and had no speakers in them) At the Grande, it was quite obvious that the band was not getting along---and even Jimmy Page has stated in interviews that he was embarrassed by all of the theatrics and circus like staging. In his own words, shows at the end of the tour, like the May 1968 Grande one were "deplorable." The band would soon break up.

Meanwhile, about 6 months later, word came down that Jeff Beck had put a new band of his own together and would be returning to the Grande as a solo act. This was another show I had to go see. Just before they came to town, his album "Truth" was released and introduced two previously unknown talents. Rod Stewart on vocals and Ronnie Wood on bass (and with another "soon to be acclaimed" addition-- drummer Mickey Waller)

The top photo reveals the relatively small size of the Grande stage with the Moorish arch above it. This photo was sent to me some years ago by a friend who swore that was the back of my head in the center. I WAS there but cannot verify that info. This is a very rare photo for another reason. Rod Stewart was initially so shy about performing live that he stood to the far side of the stage near where the assorted fans are kneeling. It was, after all, the "Jeff Beck" band and it had become known that part of Jeff's problems with the Yardbirds had been "sharing the fame." This photo shows Rod singing into the mic w/Jeff, so things had improved by the time this was taken. I remember this as being a VERY impressive showing of Jeff's skills but also a real "eye opener" to the vocal talent of Mr. Stewart!

   Also, what this further proved was what I mentioned previously---Russ Gibb had kept track of those who HE felt were going to continue to provide great music. This became even more evident in a show only 3 months after Jeff Beck's.

   Jimmy Page found himself with the rights to the "Yardbirds" name even though the band itself had broken apart. He quickly recruited new members and initially thought to call them "The New Yardbirds" while doing a contractual agreement/ test tour of the band in Scandinavia. Amazingly enough, they returned to London in October of 1968 and recorded their first album. Jimmy Page has stated that he and manager Peter Grant literally sat down and made calls to promoters throughout the USA to try and organize a last minute tour to promote the soon to be released 1st album.  Though I was under the impression for years that the new band performed one of their first gigs in the USA at the Grande Ballroom, I have found through research that the tour actually had about four different cities where they performed before coming to Detroit. It literally was all done so quickly though that the dates for the Grande shows were only confirmed weeks before they arrived---which helps explain the quickly done handbill (in place of the usual wonderful poster art---usually planned 10 day to 2 weeks before a band arrived)----note the misspelling of the name!!

  What is a known fact, is that the album was released on January 12---and the first performance at the Grande Ballroom of Jimmy Page's new band Led Zeppelin was 5 days later on January 17, 1969. In an interview, he made the point that he remembered those Detroit shows for 2 reasons---one was that he was determined to make up for the last Yardbirds appearance (only 9 months previously!!) but also because their amplifiers and equipment were delayed on another plane by the (typical) bad Michigan winter weather. Replacement amps (some have said Vox--others worse) were borrowed from local supplierWonderland Music and due to the lesser power, the first 2 nights had volume problems with Robert Plants vocals overwhelming the sound via the in house PA system. 

    With limited promotion AND that nasty weather, I have heard varying rumors over the years that there were anywhere from 50 odd people to 250 at the first nights show. Word spread quickly about the power of this new band though and by the second night, the 1275 capacity Grande Ballroom was more than half full. I have heard that the band was very contained and dressed very conservatively in tight jeans and leather jackets for the first show. They loosened up a bit as the weekend went on. 

     

 By the time I went to the 3rd show, the sound had been worked out, word had gotten out and the place was packed and Jimmy was wearing the same "Flaming Dragon"/ Rock God outfit seen in the Yardbirds poster above. I heard he was very contained and seemed nervous the first 2 shows but when I saw them, he had obviously "relaxed" ("maybe" with some help) and, with his eyes almost closed in slits, he was into the performance. I---was stunned. Keith Relf, the blond haired lead singer of the Yardbirds had, what I felt, was a great rock & roll singers voice. But he just stood there at the microphone stand and did his job. NOW---with his mane of blond hair flying and over 6ft height, Robert Plant was a HUGE stage presence and had charisma to go along with his soaring vocals. By the time they performed "How many more time?", I remember looking around at people around me with this silly grin on my face as if to say "Are you getting this? Are these guys for real?!"
    Here was all that I could have asked for as a fan of the Yardbirds---TRUMPED into a better, newer version and presented before I had even heard the album.The power of the songs and the musicianship was impressive and the overall combination was unlike any band I had seen before.

 And all of that music occurring within a 2 year period. From my initial viewing of the Yardbirds with Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page through the creation of Jeff Beck's solo career AND start of Rod Stewart's , to the introduction of Led Zeppelin and return of Jimmy Page. And through all of it, and thinking back on those times, I just shake my head in amazement at the junior high school teacher with his vision and determination to create a music scene in his home town.

(and--- of course----a "R.I.P" for Gary Grimshaw and his amazing contribution to that same scene)