DANCING FISH AND THE DANNY GODINEZ BAND

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(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

SOMETIMES the best things happen when you do something on the spur of the moment, something spontaneous. When you are tired of the routine. When it’s late Friday afternoon and the full workweek has all but killed your brain. When you make a phone call to hook up with someone you haven’t seen in a while and say, “Let’s go!” When they are available and it just all works out. That is the best!

Such was the way my weekend started out when I called Cousin AP and asked the magic question: “Sushi?”

We went out for sushi at The Dancing Fish Company in Bethlehem, PA. It was the best! I didn’t see any of the fish dancing. Even if the fish tried to dance, it would have been a short little waltz! One of us would have covered it with ginger, dipped it in soy sauce, and it would have been curtains for the fish and delight for the palate! Spider, dragon, Alaska, vegetable and yellowtail were the rolls we feasted on. Plus we had “chicken and ribs.” Huh? At a sushi restaurant? But wait! The “chicken and ribs” dish was actually a California roll covered with spicy tuna. Yummy! Add to this a little salad and miso soup. Top it off with an ice cream dessert called “mochi” that brings you to a state of near euphoria, especially the red bean. And you have a meal worth dancing for. Bring a cousin, a good friend, a lovely person onto the stage and you have Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers cutting up the rug!

AFTER DINNER, Cousin AP and I decided to go to the Pattenburg House. It was only 9:30. Neither of us felt like going home so early. So we went over to Pattenburg to have a drink and maybe catch some music. AP had heard that some guy from Seattle was doing a solo show. We enjoyed the first band, a group of local guys called Dyer Weed. Their music was kind of groovy and fun. Some of the guys in the band weren’t even wearing shoes. That’s the way it is at the Pattenburg House. The atmosphere is kind of laid back. A lot of people frequent the place and know each other. You can let your hair down, laugh and dance. But since I don’t have enough hair to let down, and I don’t dance (despite the Fred Astaire analogy above), I just enjoyed watching the band.

The first band finished, packed up and we were excited to see that the act from Seattle was not just a solo singer but a full band. They were the Danny Godinez Band. The who? No, not The Who! The Danny Godinez Band! Although we had never heard of them before, let me tell you, within the first 30 seconds of the very first song we were amazed and knew that we had gotten something worth way more than the little $5 cover charge we paid! These guys were awesome! They were extremely talented, precise, jazzy, rocky, soulful, playful, quiet and explosive! Wow!

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Of course, as a drummer, I watch every move a drummer makes. This drummer was blowing me away! He used everything at his disposal with precision, speed, accuracy and timing. He was a well-trained warrior wielding his weapons and tearing through the crowd.

Yet, when you talk with him, Todd is a mild-mannered kind-hearted guy, an intelligent guy who takes the time to listen when people speak to him. We struck up a conversation when the band took a break and made a connection for me to possibly do some web design for the band and, more importantly, to make a friend.

What about the rest of the band?

Danny Godinez will quickly get your attention with his acoustic guitar. He was smooth and fast. It was obvious that he “becomes one” with his guitar. When a guy uses harmonics, slaps his strings, picks with precision and speed, and masterfully bends his guitar neck to get just the perfect sound, you know that you are getting more than just music. You are getting the man’s soul. When he adds smooth singing and even mimics his guitar licks with his vocals, you are getting soul and art.

Danny, as well, is a super nice guy. In fact, all the guys in the band are great people. There is no arrogance among them. They interacted with the crowd in a positive and friendly way. It was great to see. How many times do you see musicians that don’t even have half the talent as Danny and his band who have ten times the amount of arrogance and act like their “you-know-what” doesn’t stink? Most of the time their music stinks more than their “you-know-what!”

Farko is the bass player. He came from Uzbekistan and hooked up with the others when he came to Seattle to attend music school. Farko is a mighty cool guy to talk with. We really enjoyed talking and laughing with him. It was interesting to hear his story.

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On the keyboards is Joe Raven. Wow! He is all curly hair and lightening fingers! It was a lot of fun to watch him play. Just like the others, he was a delight to talk with as well.

COUSIN AP and I enjoyed ourselves so much that we decided to make the trek to Norwalk, Connecticut to see the band again on Saturday night. I wanted to hook up with them again in order to talk some more about their website and possibly helping them out with that. AP and I both wanted to see them again just to enjoy their incredible music. We were surprised that it took us less than two hours to make the trip. Norwalk was a nice little town. There were plenty of clubs, shops and restaurants around. The band played at a place called Ocean Drive on Washington Street. It appeared to be a little upscale. In fact, we nearly paid more for a glass of wine than you would pay in a store for a small bottle! It was so opposite of the scene at the Pattenburg House. Regardless, AP and I had a good time. She took a lot of good pictures for the band. We had an opportunity to meet some new people. It felt good to get away and do something different.

ONE LAST THING. The Danny Godinez Band from Seattle, Washington is like a secret that no one should keep anymore. When I first heard them I thought, “Why hasn’t someone told me about this band before?” It almost felt morally wrong that I had never heard anyone talk about these guys before. Hey! If there is a good band, I want to know about it! Don’t leave me in the dark! How dare you! Let’s make a deal. Any time you find out about a good band, let me know. I’ll do the same for you. And if the timing is right and you are in the mood to do something spontaneous, let’s go hear a good band together. Okay? Good!

APPROACHING 9/11

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(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)

MANY and various are the emotions in my heart on this day just two days away from the anniversary of September 11. The first hints of autumn are in the wind, carrying memories of events that I never thought I would see. Faces flash through my mind: concerned television news anchors, a murdered fire department chaplain, the dusty bleeding wounded, reluctant widows, rejoicing Palestinian children, a warm-hearted girl in the city, my confused and frightened seven-year-old. I cannot help but stare at the diminished New York City skyline every time I drive to the city, hoping that maybe it’s all been a dream and the Towers are still standing, their occupants still with us.

Often I vacillate between desiring peace and wanting justice. In actuality, there can be no complete peace without justice. How can one be at peace and satisfied when he has been severely wronged and no reparations have been made? How can one rest when some of his most valuable possessions have been stolen, destroyed, desecrated, murdered? Should not someone be held accountable and made to pay?

Yet, what price paid could ever sufficiently replace that which was lost on September 11, 2001? The whole earth itself with all its treasures would be a filthy, disgusting, pitiful and trite offering compared to the value of just one of those souls that unjustly perished on that day. They can never be replaced. Humanly speaking, we could never obtain satisfactory justice for the murders inflicted on that day. Even if we imposed a million condemnations upon the perpetrators of these crimes and their accomplices, making them to die a thousand deaths for their deeds, would any of us be satisfied?

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Sure, that is justice. But would that ever satisfy the longings of love violated? Would that return a firefighter to his weeping widow? Would that return a bride to her lonely groom? If we take a life to pay for another life, does that satisfy the confused orphan? Or does that only make more orphans? Do not get me wrong. I believe that justice demands that the life of the murderer be ended by the hands of the law. If orphans are made it is not the fault of justice but the fault of the killer. You should have thought about your weeping orphaned son before you plunged the knife in, before you pulled the trigger, before you crashed the plane. Justice demands a life for a life. But love is not satisfied by it. If I could resurrect one of those who hijacked the planes last year, and kill him with my own hands over and over for each of those that died that day, no one would be satisfied. The fiery jealousy of love requires more, requires that which cannot be exacted nor paid. Indeed, it would set the world on fire and consume all in its path. No wonder it is written, “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, I will repay.”

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MANY TIMES over the past year, I have stood at Ground Zero, blinked unbelievingly up through the hole in the sky and asked, “Why?” I have tried to comprehend the unthinkable. I have heard the fanatics refer to the “Great Satan,” my country. I have seen the smugness on their faces as they hide within their caves and their violence, self-proclaimed ambassadors of Allah, praising their deluded minions falsely called martyrs. I have studied their psychological profiles. I have listened to their twisted reasoning. It can only be understood by madmen and zealots. I do not believe that they represent true Islam. Certainly, there are multitudes of peace-loving Muslims. Certainly, I am friends with some of them. I will not allow the zealots of their religion to cloud my opinion of them and trust that they will accord me the same understanding. Certainly, there have been murderous zealots in my religion also. Let us not judge each other based upon the deeds or misdeeds of those in our religions who wear the robes, the collars, the suits, the turbans, the rings, and claim to be our spiritual guides. Know my heart and its sincerity. Judge me on that basis.

FOR A TIME, the skies were silent over the United States after we were attacked. The sights and sounds of airliners flying overhead toward New York were unnoticed, part of the background noise of every day life here. Now, since the startling sound of the first plane that flew over once flights resumed, and with each plane that I see, I am made to think of that awful day. Wonder assails me and carries my mind to places I do not wish to go. I picture myself seated in a meeting at work at 8:46 AM. I see my colleagues, smell the office coffee, try to shake off the aggravation of the morning drive and focus on the work at hand. I see the plane crashing in upon us. I imagine what would become of the walls around me, the ceiling above me, the pen in my hand, the watch on my arm, the woman seated across from me. I try to imagine the terror of those who saw the plane approaching at 400 miles per hour. Did they have time to see it? Perhaps they had their backs turned. One can only hope.

I IMAGINE that each time I visit New York, there will be the thoughts of sadness, injustice and confusion. These things will never be forgotten. They may become less intense with time, just as a wound hurts less the more it heals. The scar will always remain. Scar tissue is the strongest tissue. Come, my friends. Let us continue on, united, scarred and limping if need be. The skies rain blessings more often than fire. Let us look up with expectancy and determination. Let us rebuild with courage and confidence. Let us pray with sincerity and hope.

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