Alison & Tommy Love The Kinks ~ Yorkville Radio Tonight

Alison Pryor is my guest tonight on "Yorkville: Stoops to Nuts," radio show @ 9pm @ Centanni link below. It's a Kinks show.

http://www.centannibroadcasting.com/

Alison and I are not historians, we're not the musical snobs in Nick Hornby books (OK, sometimes), we simply love the Kinks. We don’t know everything about them, but we do want to tell you why their music is important to us and why its a continual source of joy. We all have damaged heroes, Ray Davies is one of ours. We don't know him personally, and never will, but it’s easy to separate the beauty of his music and his lyrics and let them stand sensationally on their own. I spent a thousand hours sitting on a stoop listening to this nut and I love him. Ray Davies music was an essential fabric in the weave of the neighborhood. He happily haunts many places for Alison & me.

Alison comes to the show with DJ experience. Pictured here, two of her gigs: First, Bay Ridge, 1990, she spun tunes on the turntable and leaned towards Motown, Southside Johnny, Kinks, New Wave and the Boss. In college, she hosted a Saturday night show and played records with her friend, Ollie. During their show, I danced alone in my room to all songs, and kept this to myself. Some of the best times of my life.

Come by tonight, listen to our show at Giovanna's restaurant. We're having a little party before Ali returns to France. All friends are welcome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4DJ9YUYshE

The Kink Kronikles ~ Alison's Aim is True on Yorkville Radio

Alison Pryor is my guest this week on the radio show. We love the Kinks and we're going to explore why Ray Davies, Dave Davies, Pete Quaife & Mick Avory knock us out, and we'll figure out the Paris and Toulouse equivalent of sitting on a stoop.

Below, an early Kinks experience of mine in Queens. Photo of Eagle Theater @ Andrew Gardner, photographer, Street Level:

http://www.aonghais-macinnes.com/

Like my fathers' mother, like my father, I love my stuff. I'm no Collyer brother, my place is neat, in it's own way. I still own my first two records, both by Dave Seville and the Chipmunks: "Witch Doctor," in 1958, and 1959, "Alvin's Harmonica." The football is from 1969 and the main reason it's still here: I religiously duct taped it like a car accident victim. When I had no duct tape I used electric tape, this pissed Dad off, since most wires in our apartment and my grandmother's apartment were frayed and Dad kept a roll in his pocket on the weekend.

.
After 40 years of flying over and bouncing along concrete and asphalt, my friend,"Herman," the football stands by my side.
.
I was talking with a friend about how much I love Ray Davies and the Kinks music. This reminded me of a frigid November Saturday afternoon in 1965 when I was eleven.
.
For some reason, I was staying over my Aunt Barbara's apartment in Elmhurst. I liked to wander around the neighborhood by myself, so I was window shopping along Roosevelt Avenue under the El, breezed past 37th Road and Jackson Avenue. I had a buck, which meant today I would buy one 45 single, and it better be a good one. When I was eleven, no decision carried as much weight and thought as buying a record. There was a small music store near the Eagle movie house. I tired out the clerk looking over the new releases and finally decided on "Till the End of the Day," by the Kinks, because I heard "Where Have All the Good Times Gone?" the flip side once and liked it fine. It was a unexpected gift buying a single when the B side was a good song too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnB3CHwPipU
.
I ran a half mile to Barbara's apartment on Macnish Street, not breathing, said hi, and went straight to the Victrola. Saw something disturbing.
.
"Barbara, why is the record player unplugged?"
"It's broke.'
"Huh?"
OK now I was in hell. New music with no means of playing it. I dropped into a chair. Barbara saw the shape I was in and made a suggestion.
.
"Tommy, Joannie's not home, but why don't you go try Betty?"
.
Barbara, my Aunt Joan, and their friend Betty Mulhern, all lived in the building. Betty Mulhern was Emma Peel, Barbara Feldon and Serena, Samantha's evil cousin all rolled into one. If you didn't like brunettes, and saw Betty, you'd like brunettes. She danced every new dance, and her wild hair flew. She wore tight shorts on long legs, she wore clam diggers, she painted her pretty toes. Her eyes sparkled, her nose twitched. I couldn't make eye contact with her without my belly feeling funny.
.
I went down the hall and knocked on Betty's door. Music was playing.
.
"Hey Tommy, what's up?"
"Hmmm, I have a new record, Barbara's player is broken. Can I play it on yours?"
"Sure, come in."
I put it on. Betty was doing the dishes, and she started to sway her hips. All I could do was watch her move back and forth, back and forth.
.
I played both sides five times. Would have made it six, if Barbara didn't come in to retrieve me.

Hating Dallas, Missing Dad

The Dallas Cowboys losing -- my number #1 Schadenfreude trigger. I love September and football creeping up.

Here's a picture of Dad & me, right after Joe "The Nose" Danelo, kicked the New York Giants into the 1981 NFL playoffs on December 19th, with the Jets help next day beating the Packers. Thanks, Jets.

Best two live "Old Yankee Stadium, we were there," sports days ever with Dad.

1) Giants beat Skins 35-33 ~ Nov 1970 ~ came back from 19 points down with a quarter to go. Stadium rocked and rolled. Dad and I hugged like we were going out. Tucker Fredrickson's best game as a pro, Ron Johnson scored winning sweep right in front of Dad & me seating behind Yankee dugout.

2) Mickey's 500. May 1967. We cried while we hugged after that one. I miss Dad hugging me. I made him take me to the Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Friday night, Hal Reniff gave up 9 earned runs, Yankees got pounded, but we stayed to watch Mick hit.


When Dallas loses, I feel Dad's smile.
.
.
Instead of doing what I should be doing, I'm listening to Ray Davies, "Property." What a song.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W74JMyYXac0
.
.

Pete Rose Took No Prisoners

Buddy McMahon is 56 today, Happy birthday, Budwick, my lifelong Yorkville & LaSalle Academy pal.

Buddy is one of the survivors from kids who grew up on the 400 block on 80th Street. My Dad said one summer when he was young a traveling circus came to Yorkville set up their tent on that block and never left. The second problem with Buddy's address was he lived right across the street from his grammar school, St. Monica's. That's nuts! If I lived right across the street from St. Stephen's I'd imagine the nuns would have visited my parents on the weekend to tell them everything I did bad during the week. I figured since I lived two blocks away from the school I was getting away with murder. Poor Buddy.

July 1970, Buddy invited me Upstate for the week. His family owned 107 acres in Worcester, 17 miles outside Cooperstown. I showed up at 429 East 80th Street at 8am with one of Dad's Barber Shipping Line client gifts: a collapsible tartan fabric suitcase, not much bigger than the one Jerry Mahoney used when he visited Knucklehead Smiff. Inside the suitcase were two pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, three T-shirts, one pair of shorts and 5 bottles of Red Ripple.

Buddy's father was aware of our stash but said nothing, Larry was a good man.

Later in the week, July 14, Buddy and I went up to the woods and started a fire, roasted potatoes on sticks, and listened to the radio trying to get a bead on the All-Star game from the new Riverfront Stadium. All we could pick up were local religious shows. For one clear moment the Kinks came through, Lola.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ixqbc7X2NQY

After finishing our near wine and eating blackened cold-inside potatoes, we went back to the house to watch the end of the game. As we walked in on the small black and white TV we saw Pete Rose steaming down the third base line and Buddy's Dad watching impassively. Then, "Holy shit," just two words came out of Buddy's father's mouth as Pete Rose crashed into the catcher, Ray Fosse of the Indians ending Fosse's All-Star career. Pete Rose would have been right at home in Yorkville in 1970.

.

You Really Got Me, Emma Peel

OK, I loved Elizabeth Montgomery. I put up with many crappy Bewitched episodes to watch her cute face and occasionally peek at Mrs. Tate. I did like Barbara Feldon because she resembled a girl I had a crush on ~ and Agent 99 smiled at me through the screen, a lot more than the object of my affection did.

.

But in October 1965, all the other girls went out the window and there was only one, Emma Peel on The Avengers.

.

The New York Giants stunk in 1965, so all my attention that fall was available for this tall, lean, intelligent, sarcastic, athletic, gorgeous, articulate and funny goddess. Based on what I was being told in school and church, about things that sent you to hell, I'm surprised I wasn't picked up personally by the devil in a checker cab and escorted immediately to his hottest room.

.

My brain burned an image of Diana Rigg on it's main screen and stayed there all week until showtime on Friday night. Much to the chagrin of my mother, Dad used a power drill with a buff attachment to shine his dress shoes at the end of the week. If Emma was on TV, Dad would rest his chore and join me in adoration. I always slept well after The Avengers.

.

Ray Davies and the Kinks tells Emma Peel how he feels about her, click Kelly Garrett's video below:

.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ve9N9oaXU18&feature=related

Sway ~ Till the End of the Day

Like my fathers' mother, like my father, I love my stuff. I'm no Collyer brother, my place is neat, in it's own way. I still own my first two records, both by Dave Seville and the Chipmunks: "Witch Doctor," in 1958, and 1959, "Alvin's Harmonica." The football is from 1969 and the main reason it's still here: I religiously duct taped it like a car accident victim. When I had no duct tape I used electric tape, this pissed Dad off, since most wires in our apartment and my grandmother's apartment were frayed and Dad kept a roll in his pocket on the weekend.
.
After 40 years of flying over and bouncing along concrete and asphalt, my friend, "Herman," the football stands by my side.
.
I was talking with a friend about how much I love Ray Davies and the Kinks music. This reminded me of a frigid November Saturday afternoon in 1965 when I was eleven.
.
For some reason, I was staying over my Aunt Barbara's apartment in Elmhurst. I liked to wander around the neighborhood by myself, so I was window shopping along Roosevelt under the El and Jackson Avenue. I had a buck, which meant today I would buy one 45 single, and it better be a good one. When I was eleven, no decision carried as much weight and thought as buying a record. There was a small music store near the Jackson movie house. I tired out the clerk looking over the new releases and finally decided on "Till the End of the Day," by the Kinks, because I heard "Where Have All the Good Times Gone?" the flip side once and liked it fine. It was a unexpected gift buying a single when the B side was a good song too.
.
I ran a half mile to Barbara's apartment on Macnish Street, not breathing, said hi, and went straight to the Victrola. Saw something disturbing.
.
"Barbara, why is the record player unplugged?"
"It's broke.'
"Huh?"
OK now I was in hell. New music with no means of playing it. I dropped into a chair. Barbara saw the shape I was in and made a suggestion.
.
"Tommy, Joannie's not home, but why don't you go try Betty?"
.
Barbara, my Aunt Joan, and their friend Betty Mulhern, all lived in the building. Betty Mulhern was Emma Peel, Barbara Feldon and Serena, Samantha's evil cousin all rolled into one. If you didn't like brunettes, and saw Betty, you'd like brunettes. She danced every new dance, and her wild hair flew. She wore tight shorts on long legs, she wore clam diggers, she painted her pretty toes. Her eyes sparkled, her nose twitched. I couldn't make eye contact with her without my belly feeling funny.
.
I went down the hall and knocked on Betty's door. Music was playing.
.
"Hey Tommy, what's up?"
"Hmmm, I have a new record, Barbara's player is broken. Can I play it on yours?"
"Sure, come in."
I put it on. Betty was doing the dishes, and she started to sway her hips. All I could do was watch her move back and forth, back and forth.
.
I played both sides five times. Would have made it six, if Barbara didn't come in to retrieve me.

Picture Book

Picture yourself
when you're getting old.
Sat by the fireplace
a pondering on.

Picture book,
pictures of your mama,
taken by your papa,
a long time ago.
Picture book,
of people with each other,
to prove they loved each other,
a long time ago.

(song by Ray Davies)

Yesterday and Today

Alison's last college class was yesterday. Ali is the third Pryor to graduate college, ever. I'm listening to her DJ & spin Glenn Tilbrook and the Kinks "Good Day" on her last radio show at Dickinson College. Got me thinking, Hunter College feels like yesterday to me, well, here's my Hunter ID. My yesterday & today.

'

Good Day (written by Ray Davies)

The sky is blue but there are clouds in my head,

With big decisions looming ahead.

The sun is out but the room is so grey,

So much confusion headed my way.Get positive, try to be gay.

News of the world, tea and biscuits in bed.

The headlines said that Diana is dead.

She couldnt act much but she put on a show.

She always smiled even when she felt low.

I used to fancy her a long time ago.

So today has got to be a good day,

Today is gonna be a good day,

Today is gonna be a good day,

Good day, good day, good day.

Holes in my socks and I cant find my shoes.

Its no surprise that Im singing the blues.

So many holes in my life still to mend,

And someone just said that the worlds gonna end.

So today better be a good day,

Today is gonna be a good day,

Today has got to be a good day,

Good day, good day, good day, good day.

If we blow away the past with a bloody great blast,

Make it fast, make it fast.

So have a good day today because it could be your last,

Make it last, make it last.

Will it light up the sky?

Will it blot out the sun?

Well we've waited this long,

So it better be a good one.

Good day, good day, good day.

Yeah, its gonna be a good day.Hey baby,

if you come back home itll be a good day today.

They could drop a small atom bomb on the city today,

But if you walk through that door honey,

you know itll be a good day.

And now survival is my only aim.

I call friends and see if any remain.

Who was that girl who used to be my flame?

Id call her if I could remember her name.

So today is gonna be a good day,

Today has got to be a good day,

Today is gonna be a good day,

Good day, good day, good day, good day.

Hey Diana, Ive really got to learn to take a tip from you,

Put on my makeup and try to make the world take notice of you.

Yeah, its gonna be good day today.

.

.