Evil's Second Coming

Note: This reaction-to-9/11 piece that I penned was originally published by STYLE Weekly on May 15, 2002. At that time, 20 years ago, most periodical publishers in Virginia (and elsewhere) were not much interested in running opinion pieces that questioned the Bush administration's post-9/11 policies and tactics in any way. Which, of course, helped pave the road into Iraq.

 

So, looking back on it, I have to thank Rozanne Epps, an editor at STYLE Weekly, for deciding to run this one on the Back Page. As far as I know, it was her call.

Evil's Second Coming
by F.T. Rea

Washing in on what poet William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) might have called a “blood-dimmed tide,” the specter of evil suddenly emerged from the periphery of modern life eight months ago. In the blue skies of the time before 9/11’s sucker punch, the notion of pure evil had an Old World air about it. Absolutes, such as good and evil, had no seat at the table of postmodern thinking.

After 9/11, a generation of Americans suddenly learned a bitter lesson: Evil never went away. Living in a land of plenty, it had gotten to be a pleasant habit to avert our eyes from evil-doings in lands of want. Evil had gone out of style, as a concept, only because times were so easy.

The last American president to get much mileage out of the word "evil" was probably Ronald Reagan, with his “evil empire” characterization of the USSR and its sphere of influence. Now, 20 years later, we have a president who sees “an axis of evil” — an alleged phenomenon that puzzles most of the world’s leaders, or so they say.

George W. Bush apparently has little use for Franklin D. Roosevelt’s stalwart advice to a nation in need of a boost in confidence — “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”

Rather than urge his people to rise above it, Bush chooses to color-code fear. The propagandists of the Bush administration have been successful in cultivating the public’s anxiety since September. Whether that’s been done for our own good remains to be seen. Perhaps it has, but this much is clear now — all the official danger alerts about nuclear power plants, bridges and crop-dusters have been effective in keeping most of the natural questioning of the administration’s moves at bay.

To hear Attorney General John Ashcroft tell it, the architects of 9/11 are the personification of the most virulent form of evil ever known. Although much of the evidence that would establish his absolute guilt in connection with 9/11 remains a state secret, Osama bin Laden is said to have shot to the top of the chart.

Forget about Joseph Stalin, Adolph Hitler, Idi Amin and Pol Pot. They were amateurs.Then again, evil, like beauty, has always been in the eye of the beholder.

Wasn’t it evil to deliberately dump tons of potent pesticide into the James River during the ’70s to make a greedy buck? Once it was in Virginia’s water, Kepone wasn’t so different from a bio-terror agent in the same water.

With the news seeping out of the cloisters about child-molesting priests and the Catholic Church’s systematic cover-ups, whose betrayal was more evil, the molester or the higher-ups who hid and facilitated his crimes?

Whether evil exists in some pure form, off in another dimension, is not my department. What’s known here is that in the real world evil is contagious. Lurking in well-appointed rooms or hiding in caves, evil remains as it ever was — ready to spread.

None of this is to suggest that al Qaida shouldn’t be put out of business. It isn’t to say that knocking the Taliban off was a bad idea. There’s no question here about whether the United States should protect itself from the networks of organized terror that are hell-bent on destroying the modern world.

Still, today’s evil is the same evil our forefathers faced in their wars. Evil hasn’t changed; technology has. With modern weapons in their hands, the fanatics of the world have the potential to wreak havoc like never before.

What has changed is the extent to which the hate festering in the souls of the world’s would-be poobahs and their psychopathic followers can be weaponized. It’s worth noting that the weapons of mass destruction that are scaring us the most were developed during the arms-race days of the Cold War by the game’s principal players.

So another question arises, who is more dangerous to civilization, the guys who spent their treasure to weaponize germs, or the guys who want to steal the stuff and use it on somebody?

Decades ago this was a concern expressed by some in the disarmament movement. Its scary what-if scenarios always included the likelihood that the Super Powers would eventually lose track of some of their exotic weapons. Looking back on it now, it seems obvious there was no way any government could keep all that material locked away from the greed and hate of determined free-lancers.

A man with a briefcase-style nuclear device may be no more evil than a man armed with a knife. Either danger could kill you just as dead. Those of us who feel connected to others, those who care about humanity's future, understand which killer we ought to fear the most. The “rough beast” of dreadful evil “slouching towards” us is traveling on the back of technology of our own making.

While we watch out for terrorist invader cells in the short run, with a handy color code to guide us, it’s time to think more seriously about how to get rid of a lot of very dangerous weapons in the long run.

-- 30 --

 

Arthur Getz

• So far, Arthur Getz (1913-96) has been the most prolific New Yorker cover artist -- in all, 213 covers from 1938 to 1988. Three of them are below.

• The one to the left ran on July 20, 1957.

• The one on the right appeared on the September 1, 1962, cover. 
  

• The cover art below was published on May 1, 1948.

• It seems Getz was one of those 20th century artists who was sometimes put down for being "too commercial" by snooty folks viewing it from within the fine art world. But I wonder if Getz was really too commercial, whatever that meant. Or were some of those critics maybe just a little envious of Getz's confident eye for design and his striking ability to deftly portray a mood.  

Remembering Bill Blue (1946-2022)

This obituary for Bill Blue was written by Ralph DePalma. It was published on July 20, 2022, by the Key West Citizen. 

* 

Once in a while, a special person comes along and has an impact on your life, music and everything special. Bill Blue impacted everything and everyone he touched.

On July 14, Key West lost this extraordinarily talented and well-loved blues musician to cancer. William Andrews Blue was born in Aberdeen, North Carolina, on July 23, 1946. The family moved to Yorktown, Virginia, when Bill was very young. His life was changed forever on Sept. 9, 1956, when Elvis Presley appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” The following Monday morning, Gibson guitars had their best-ever sales day.

 

Like millions of young men, Bill was amazed by Elvis and started playing the guitar. One night in Richmond, a very scared young Bill Blue got on stage for the first time at the Crossroads Coffee House and played a few of his own songs. He was very young and very good. He went on to make a living playing guitar all of his adult life — he even later got to meet Elvis.

 

Bill’s life changed again when he met Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup who wrote, “That’s All Right, Mama”, the first song Elvis recorded. Crudup was living in a shack in a migrant worker camp (aka “truck farm”). Bill and Big Boy put together a band and started performing locally. Around the same time, Bonnie Raitt’s new manager, Dick Waterman, was gathering old blues musicians to tour. Crudup got a call and was asked if he could put together a band and join their tour. The following week, Bill Blue was playing with Crudup while touring with Raitt — pure serendipity.

 

Crudup, who passed away in 1974, never received any royalties for his work. Blue wrote a song about Big Boy called “On the Road for Big Boy,” and played it at almost every gig. Bill began touring on his own, sharing the stage with B.B. King, ZZ Top, the Allman Brothers and countless others.

 

His first musical gig in Key West was at Sloppy Joe’s on July 4, 1979. Bill was going through some tough personal times, and touring had taken its toll. Key West became a safe harbor, a port in a storm that lasted for more than 35 years.

 

When Bill arrived in town, he hooked up with a group of musicians and formed a band called “Bill Blue & the Nervous Guys.” Regular gigs at Sloppy Joe’s put the group on the music map in Key West. In the mid-1980s, Bill had a houseguest for six weeks — St. Petey Twig, known today as Barry Cuda. The two had met while touring Northern Europe. On his way to New Orleans, Cuda stopped in Key West to see Bill and play a few gigs. He began rolling a 350-pound upright piano to and from gigs around Key West and never made it to New Orleans.

 

One night, in 1994, while performing at Sloppy Joe’s, Bill’s high school sweetheart walked through the front door. Bill and Beverly immediately made eye contact. On a break, they spoke, reconnected and began to fall back in love. Coffee Butler performed at their wedding — Bill’s fourth. They lived in a small houseboat. Beverly sang backup at Bill’s gigs. She dove for lobsters behind Garrison Bight. It was an amazing 25-year love story.

 

The Green Parrot was hallowed ground for Bill. He was the first to play music, in 1983, at this most famous venue. He probably performed on the Green Parrot stage hundreds of times, to tens of thousands of adoring fans. It’s a cathedral of Bill Blue music.

 

Early one morning in 2013, Bill and I walked into an eerily still and empty Green Parrot to shoot photos for his “Mojolation” album cover. As Bill casually strolled passed the stage, you could feel a ghostly chill from his thousands of fans in this special place. We had searched all over Key West for a cover shot. As we walked past the stage, full of instruments ready for the next gig, we both instantly knew we would get the photograph we needed.

 

Bill loved the Green Parrot stage and especially his sound check fans. Caffeine Carl would often perform with him, and they would both rip up the stage. Carl performed Bill’s song, “Hunker Down,” at the recent Key West Blues Festival, and someone posted a video of the performance on Facebook. Bill saw it and sent Carl a message, “Thanks for doing my song … made me feel better … love you buddy.” Nothing could have made Carl feel better.

 

Bill’s life was an extended blues music set at an amazing gig. He could equally entertain a small group in a club or a huge crowd of thousands. Bill could master a solo acoustic ballad or rip up the stage with slide guitar magic. Over the years, Bill Blue was always ready to help a friend in need. I’ve joked that he’s raised enough money to buy Miami — probably not too far off. Bill had a sense of self that was confident but not overbearing. Bill Blue’s life is a series of legendary and sometimes outlandish stories, that will be told and retold forever.

Note: Bill Blue was a member of the Board of Directors of the Bahama Village Music Program. He helped raise thousands for the music program. His family has suggested in lieu of flowers, donations may be made to BVMP, https://bvmpkw.org/donations.

*   *   *

The Mad Don Zone

During the late-1980s and early-‘90s, some of the most power-hungry Republican pundits and politicians started going to school on the way ascending phrase-makers, such as radio personality Rush Limbaugh and Rep. Newt Gingrich (R-Ga), used rhetoric to cleverly frame issues and repetition to paint opponents as villains. 

Essentially, the word management strategy called for saying simple things about complex problems. Saying stuff their anti-intellectual audience enjoyed repeating to sound in-the-know. So, no highbrow wordsmithery. 

And, if the message runs on a continuous loop and is amplified by broadcast media, a low-information, right-wing audience might buy almost anything you're selling. Moreover, if the manipulative messages ride on the backs of long existing resentments and hatreds, that tailored message can gather a substantial following ... especially if all of the players stick to the script.

Well, it worked. Like a charm.

And, for a long time most of the Democrats acted stunned. It was like they had been sucker-punched by a focus group strategy. It was a strategy that really had little to do with solving real problems. It had everything to do with promulgating propaganda to put college professors, unions, minorities, artists of all stripes, governments, etc., in bad light.

For example, instead of saying religious intolerance and racism were lingering problems that each generation of Americans needed to step up and help ameliorate, the swaggering Limbaugh/Gingrich conservative pundits and politicians repeatedly told the fools propping them up that liberal Democrats were hellbent on crushing their “freedom.” Now we can see that brainwashing process was equivalent to pouring gasoline on what were small white nationalism fires. 

Then, in 2000, George W. Bush’s advisors thought they could use the hordes of haters on the right. And the haters on the right thought they could use the traditional Republicans like Bush. Well, it turned out both sides of that unholy alliance were sort of right. 

Meanwhile, self-styled populist/mobster Donald Trump was listening and watching. Then came the Tea Party -- a hate-driven reaction to the election of Barack Obama in 2008.  And, after they accepted Sarah Palin as a legitimate VEEP nominee, Trump knew the Republican Party had become totally shameless.  

Subsequently, Trump saw his path to the White House open up. With the "birther" issue greasing the wheels of the Mad Don's gold-plated bandwagon, Democrats couldn't harness the will, or find the way, to stop a rather silly slogan -- Make America Great Again. 

Like it, or not, Trump surely knows how to strike a pose and sling red meat phrases at his adoring mob of cultists. Hey, they still love wearing those damn red MAGA baseball caps. 

*

To cut to the chase: With the January 6 Committee’s hearings, the Democrats (with the help of the two remaining traditional Republicans in the House of Representatives) have seized the moment. For the first time in over 20 years savvy Democrats are winning an important  propaganda war. The staging of the seven hearings, so far, has been a marvel.

Republicans are flabbergasted. The Committee's Episode 8 is airing in prime time (8 p.m. ET) on a list of networks and web sites on Thursday night.

2022's truth be told, for the sake of the USA's future as a democracy, this is not a word war Democrats can allow Trump to win. Stay tuned...

-- 30 --

The Perpetual Threat

Like a lot of people who follow politics, I think Trump will eventually be running for president, AGAIN. You know how he must hate the publicity the January 6 Committee is generating, all of it at his expense. So, I say, if it's coming, anyway -- then the sooner the better. 

After all, if Trump starts fundraising next month for his 2024 presidential campaign, which we all know he's eager to do -- in spite of his advisers who say, "better to wait" -- it will drain off a lot of dough that would be helping the 2022 campaigns of Republican candidates, in races up and down the ballots, coast-to-coast. Plus, as a ranting, headline-making candidate, he will immediately become the all overshadowing issue in most of those races. 

Moreover, I expect that factor will damage more Republican candidates than it helps.

So with Trump's festering jealousy over the media attention other politicians are currently enjoying, together with his likely belief that being an active candidate might discourage some prosecutors from indicting him, and his insatiable need for more adulation and money, my guess is Trump will indeed announce his candidacy sooner than later. 

Does Mar-a-Lago have an escalator?

Remember, if things don't go well for him on the campaign trail, none of this means impulsive Trump will feel obligated to stay in the race. So what has he got to lose by announcing early? Thus, if his poll numbers fall off of a cliff and his rallies stop drawing big, adoring crowds, that could make him throw his lunch at a wall and call it quits.

Or, for the matter, there's no telling what such bitter disappointments would do to America's first Mobster-in-Chief. 

Nonetheless, candidate or not, 76-year-old Donald Trump will likely remain a perpetual threat to steal the political spotlight, any damn way he can, for as long as he possibly can. Win, lose, or draw, that much we can count on from Trump.  

-- Art and words by F.T. Rea

Fan District Softball League Hall of Fame

The FDSL Hall of Fame plaque

The Fan District Softball League, which first began playing a regular schedule of games under the FDSL banner in 1975, established its Hall of Fame in 1986. The first class inducted was selected by the 12-team outfit’s designated team representatives/captains. 

To be eligible for the Hall that initial year one had to have retired from play and be considered to be among the league's founders. Ten names were selected as the first class of Hall-of-Famers.

The same rule held true in 1987, when six new names were put on the original plaque in a second column. However, by 1988, a few of those who had been inducted into the Hall had un-retired. So, in 1988, eligibility to the Hall was opened up to anyone who seemed deserving; in a third column nine names were added to the original plate, filling out the space on that large plate.

Those already in the Hall got to vote, as well as the usual captains. The meetings to select new inductees were always quite lively, as were most FDSL meetings. That's enough said on that topic. However, after discussion, the voting process and its result were probably no more twisted than any hall of fame’s way of choosing worthy names.

For 1989 six additional names were added on a small plate under the original. The class of ‘90 included seven names. In 1991 no vote was held. In ‘92 the last five names were tacked on to the list. No one remembers if there were any more Hall of Fame meetings.

In all, 41 players and two umpires were tapped. That finished list, as it stands, leans heavily toward guys who made significant contributions to the league in its early years. Thus, a few guys who came along in the last six or seven six years, who maybe ought to have been considered, probably weren't given their due. So it goes... 

The 43 men who were inducted into the FDSL’s Hall are as follows: 

Ricardo Adams, Herbie Atkinson, Howard Awad, Boogie Bailey, Yogi Bair, Jay Barrows, Otto Brauer, Ernie Brooks, Hank Brown, Bobby Cassell, Jack Colan, Willie Collins, Dickie deTreville, Jack deTreville, Henry Ford, Danny Gammon, Donald Greshham, James Jackson, Dennis Johnson, Mike Kittle, Leo Koury, Jim Letizia, Junie Loving, Tony Martin, Kenny Meyer, Cliff Mowells, Buddy Noble, Randy Noble, Henry Pollard, Artie Probst, Terry Rea, John Richardson, Jerry Robinson, Larry Rohr, Billy Snead, Jim Story, Hook Shepherd, Pudy Stallard, Durwood Usry, Jumpy White, Barry Winn, Chuck Wrenn.

The Fan District Softball League folded after the 1994 season. It had lasted 20 years, which was a wonder in itself. There are plenty of true stories from those years at Chandler Ballfield that are almost unbelievable.

 --30 -- 

Life in a Single Frame

An abstract cartoon?

As a kid I had a few recurring dreams that routinely woke me up in a panic. Some were violent.  

In my mid-30s, I started trying to make art based on a couple of those haunting dreams. The image above is the result of one of those attempts in 1983. There was a sense of swirling inward or converging to the dream that I tried to capture and depict. At the time, I was happy with the finished product. I remember thinking then that it was sort of an abstract cartoon.

Anyway, the recurring dreams of my childhood weren't all scary. I liked the ones in which I could fly. Waking up was always a disappointment. One of those other un-scary recurring dreams left a mysterious image tattooed on my memory, but I didn't know what it meant. Rather than a storyboard of a scene, it was just a single frame. In the frame was the shadow of a man that was being cast upon the leaf-covered ground. It looked like a black-and-white photo that had been tinted subtly with earthy colors. 

There was no clue as to who the man was; no sense of what he was doing. The image did move, ever so slightly, then the picture faded to black. Or maybe it just disappeared.

As an adult, my recurring dreams gradually stopped. Occasionally, something would remind me of one of the scary ones, but the spooky feeling those dreams used to leave as an aftermath was gone. And, by then I didn't even think about the shadow man image any more. 

Many years later, one afternoon in the fall, I was walking along a Frisbee-golf course fairway as it skirted the woods. Suddenly I stopped in my tracks, looking down at the mysterious man from my childhood on the ground. 

The shadow moved ever so slightly, as I stood watching, knowing at that moment that the shadow man dream of my childhood had been a preview of me with the body and stance of a man in his 50s. 

A connection was made and the circle was complete.That was my own "La Jetée" (1962) moment. So far, the only one. 

 

*

 

Note: To read brief film notes about Chris Marker's "La Jetée" and/or to watch it (28 minutes), please click here. It is in French with English subtitles (hit the CC).

 

-- Art and words by F.T. Rea

In the Crowd

My age group, commonly referred to as, "the baby boomers," has been a crowd-loving generation. For many of us, some of our favorite memorable moments took place when we were in a crowd at an event. 

We grew up with our thinking being shaped by the same media -- LIFE Magazine and MAD Magazine and from watching the same cartoons on television. In our teens and twenties my generation poured into live music festivals in crazy large numbers. We baby boomers went to boot camp in crowds and we protested war in marching crowds. It was a thrill watching "Jaws" (1975) as part of a sell-out crowd. 

Now, as geezers, the remaining baby boomers are learning to avoid crowds. After going to nearly every VCU men's basketball game ever staged at the Siegel Center, the last Rams basketball game I attended was in March of 2020. 

Hey, everybody can see that people of all ages are getting shot in crowds. Especially young people who tend to be out and about. And those same young people, at least the smart ones, can see that crowds are an epidemic's best friend. Thus, in reaction to how dangerous being in a crowd seems to have recently become, isn't our society bound to change its ways, to adjust? To cope? 

After all, it's just math: The bigger the crowd, the more risk is presented. Some shooters are looking for big crowds. Germs prefer big crowds, too.

OK, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying anyone ought to avoid crowds. That's your business. However, I am saying that in 2022 the entertainment industry has not only taken a hit in the last couple of years, it is going to have to change with the times. For the foreseeable future, for some people, being jammed shoulder-to-shoulder for a couple of hours, with a lot of attendees you don't know, has somewhat less allure than it once did. 

Which has to mean this probably isn't the best time to borrow a bunch of money to build a new large sports arena. Or to build any sort of entertainment venue designed to accommodate big crowds. And, look on the bright side, some niche forms of entertainment actually work better in small rooms, anyway. 

Bottom line: If presenting over-produced rock n' roll shows in big-ass stadiums goes out of style, well, that won't necessarily be a bad thing.

-- 30 --

About Timing

During six riveting episodes of the January 6th Committee's hearings, the testimony of witnesses and the displays presented have revealed significant new things. The hearings have also underlined important things we already knew.

That the testimony we've heard has largely come from Republicans is quite noteworthy. Some of what those witnesses have told us about Donald Trump and his underlings has been shocking. But, of course, a lot of it has not been all that surprising. 

For instance, before yesterday I didn't know that on Jan. 6, 2021, Trump seemingly wanted his gathering MAGA mob to be able to evade metal detectors. Yikes! Don't you need a license to carry a gun on the street in D.C.?

Still, I'm not particularly surprised that it appears Trump intended to conjure up a "Second Amendment solution," by leading an armed horde to the Capitol to do his dirty business. However, today I have to believe that blood-red loose thread about circumventing the metal detectors that Ms Cassidy Hutchinson revealed yesterday -- under oath -- should be pulled hard, ASAP. 

Hopefully, we will see more of Trump's accomplices and assistant accomplices find the courage to step up and answer the panel's questions. Meanwhile, what should we think of Hutchinson and Arizona's Speaker of its House of Representatives, Rusty Bowers, and other star witnesses whose recent testimony has been memorable and particularly damning? 

Should we expect them to regret having been in the Republican Party during Trump's time in office so damn much that they leave the GOP? 

Should we expect them to change their minds about political issues such as climate change, or immigration, or abortion? 

Should we expect them to simply become members of the Democratic Party? 

To all such questions my answer is, "No." Nonetheless, Democrats should be grateful for their Profiles-in-Courage honesty. There's no doubt about it, those witnesses aren't just facing being shunned by Republicans, they are facing real danger. 

Moreover, not only have Bowers and Hutchinson done their duty to help bring the truth to light, they have shown the world that in 2022 it's possible for one to be a Republican and to be an honest person at the same time. And, speaking of time, this is not the best time to criticize Bowers or Hutchinson or the other brave witnesses for what differences we might have with them over political issues not related to their January 6th Committee testimony. 

Still, that doesn't mean that we should forget how Vice Committee Chair Rep. Liz Cheney (R-WY) or any the witnesses stand on various political issues. While we are still hoping for more witnesses to come forward, this just isn't the time to dwell on such differences. Bad timing can ruin a good plan.

And, in closing, let's not forget to harmoniously sing the praises of the January 6th Committee's splendid sense of show-biz timing for choosing to abruptly schedule and present its blockbuster Episode Six when it did ... right before a holiday weekend. 

Live TV is cool.  

--  My illustration.

-- 30 -- 

Picasso’s Richmond Period

  

Picasso’s Richmond Period: a 14-week romance at the VMFA   

By F.T. Rea 

Published Feb. 18, 2011, in the Richmond Times-Dispatch  

It was built … now they are coming.

“It” is the newly renovated Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. “They” are the art lovers, tourists from all over the East Coast and your neighbors in Richmond. 

Beyond the stunning museum building itself the special attraction is a 176-piece collection of Pablo Picasso’s favorites, which is on display at the VMFA in ten galleries. No doubt, this eye-popping exhibition is about to make Picasso images and conversations ubiquitous in Richmond.

Thus, Richmond is embarking on a spring fling with the notion of all things Picasso.

Picasso: Masterpieces from the Musée National Picasso, Paris opens to the public on Sat., Feb. 19 and will be at the VMFA through May 15, 2011. Then it moves on to San Francisco. (Admission is $20; free to VMFA members and children six and under. Discounts are available to seniors, students and groups. The museum is open every day.)   

“This exhibition is without a doubt a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the American public,” said Alex Nyerges, now entering his fifth year as the VMFA’s Director.

An art show to rival this one has probably never be presented in Richmond. So, don’t be surprised by the number of way-out-of-town accents you’re going to hear in Carytown shops and the Fan District’s restaurants over the next 12 weeks. The impact on this city’s economy is expected to be significant.

In the long run, though, perhaps local school children will be the greatest beneficiaries of this chance to see a collection of objects that did much to shape the world’s art history over eight decades -- art that most people only ever see in photographs.

It will be interesting to see how many kids’ art shows will have Picasso-influenced pieces in them over the next year. So, don’t scold the sixth-graders for putting both eyeballs on the same side of a face ... they will just be having a little fun.

Nyerges said, “An exhibition this monumental is extremely rare, especially one that spans the entire career of a figure who many consider the most influential, innovative and creative artist of the 20th century.”

Since this collection of Picasso (1881-1973) paintings, drawings, sculpture, etc., is showing in just seven cities, worldwide, how did Richmond end up being the only one on the East Coast to have it?  

There are two parts to the answer: How the collection came to be, and how the VMFA got to be one of just three museums in America to be in on this unprecedented tour.

In 1985 the Musée National Picasso opened in a renovated 17th century mansion in Paris. The art in the museum came directly from Picasso’s estate. To settle the inheritance bill with the French government his heirs donated the pieces from Picasso’s collection of his own work. For most of his life he had kept certain favorite pieces.

Now the museum in Paris is being renovated, so to get some of the art out of the way -- and to make some money to defray renovation expenses -- a traveling show was put together by Anne Baldassari, the Paris museum’s director. She also oversaw the installation of the show at the VMFA.

At the media preview (on Thursday morning) Baldassari said, with a decidedly French accent, that she’s a little bit jealous of the display capabilities of the VMFA.

Aside from whatever pull Nyerges has to bring in such an attraction, it seems the Richmond museum’s fancy new look itself -- a $150 million upgrade -- played a significant role in the decision made in France to include it on the tour.

Then there’s the exhibition’s presenting sponsor’s backing: Altria Group said the right underwriting number to Baldassari and her colleagues. Altria also kicked in significantly on the previously mentioned renovation at 200 N. Boulevard.

This time Richmond stepped up to the plate and hit a home run. It beat out other cities because it demonstrated it offered a better opportunity for the French museum to cash in on schlepping Picasso’s private collection to America for a limited run in three cities.

While it may not always be true when talking about sports stadiums, or convention centers, etc., in this case “it” was built properly, and now “they” are going to come in droves. This Picasso show is going to change many perceptions of Richmond, Virginia.

“Painting is just another way of keeping a diary,” once commented Picasso.

The Picasso masterpieces show is simply dazzling! Don’t miss this chance to peruse and ponder Picasso’s fascinating diary.

-- 30 --

The Enemy. Oh, Yeah.

With all the disinformation swirling in the air, these days, it has been easy to get distracted, even fooled. 

Oh, yeah.

Sometimes, it's not all that clear what is the truth. And, lingering habits can trump reason. 

However, with recent events in mind, by now women in the USA ought to be able to see through the fog of conflict and confusion to identify their absolute worst enemy. 

It's not foreigners. It's not folks who live in the wrong part of town. It's not a religion, or an ideology, or a philosophy.

Today the true enemy of women living in the USA is the Republican Party -- a political party that has become a backward cult, quite happy to pursue an anti-female agenda. 

Oh, yeah. 

-- Illustration assembled by F.T Rea with apologies to Walt Kelly. Feel free to borrow and share it.  

Bad Habits Poisoned Roe

With four-and-a-half months to go until the mid-term elections, it's a good time to remember that without Donald Trump's pivotal 2016 victory, his appointees -- Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett -- would not be members of the Supreme Court. And, when it comes to the right to choose issue, it's very unlikely Hillary Clinton would have appointed anyone of that nefarious trio's ilk to serve on the Court. 

So, as you read this, without Trump's disaster of a four-year term in the White House, Roe vs. Wade would still be standing. Sadly, we know Roe is kaput. 

It won't surprise me to soon see news clips of Trump bragging about having poisoned Roe, as he had promised to do. By the way, speaking of "stare decisis," has the Supreme Court ever before wiped away a "right" that it crafted in the first place?

Moreover, two groups, in particular, must bear much of the responsibility for Trump's 2016 win and thus today's decision that struck down Roe vs. Wade: 1. Republicans who were semi-revolted by Trump. Still, by habit, just couldn't vote for a Democrat. 2. Democrats, who, because they were bored with politics and/or they found Clinton too annoying, simply didn't vote, again. 

No doubt, today it's easy to see that ever since Trump won in 2016, Roe has had one foot in the grave. Today, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh and Barrett are happily shoveling dirt on its coffin. 

Bottom line: Blame? It wouldn't be wrong to say that Americans' bad habits, to do with elections, deserve a large portion of the blame for the poisoning of Roe ... then it took a while to die.

-- 30 --

 

NBA Draft: VCU's Williams Selected by Grizzlies

From Chris Kowalczyk, VCU Assistant A.D.

VCU standout Vince Williams Jr. was selected in the second round, 47^th overall, by the Memphis Grizzlies in the 2022 NBA Draft Thursday night. Williams’ selection marks the second consecutive year in which a Ram was drafted by an NBA franchise. Bones Hyland was the 26^th overall pick by the Denver Nuggets in 2021.

 

A 6-foot-6 forward, Williams led the Rams in scoring (14.1) and rebounding (6.0) as a senior in 2021-22, and also averaged 3.0 assists, 1.6 steals and 1.1 blocks, while shooting .477 from the field, including .387 (65-of-168) from 3-point range. He was named All-Atlantic 10 Conference First Team for his efforts. He posted five games of 20 or more points this season, including a career-high 27 in a second round NIT contest at Wake Forest. Williams also registered three double-doubles.

 

The Toledo, Ohio native also earned All-Atlantic 10 Third Team honors as a junior in 2019-20 when he supplied 10.6 points and 5.2 rebounds, while shooting .413 (43-of-104) from beyond the arc for a team that earned an NCAA Tournament berth.

 

Williams is the 21^st Ram to hear his name called on draft day and the fourth since 2009. Additionally, three former VCU stars, Troy Daniels, Treveon Graham and Briante Weber, found their way into the league as undrafted free agents over that period. 

-- Photo from VCU.

"The Truth About January 6th"

The first episode of what could be called, "The Truth About January 6th," will begin to unfold on Thursday (June 9, 2022) night, at 8 p.m. ET. The second will be held Monday, June 13th, at 10 a.m. ET.

Hopefully, the January 6th Committee's live broadcasts will spotlight the essential whos, whats, whens, wheres and hows in a clear and compelling fashion. So I sure do hope the politicians making decisions are listening to the television production/show biz people they are working with to present this history-making documentary series in realtime. 

One of the goals on the first night has to be that it makes viewers want very much to see the next episode. So I hope they don't put a lot of emphasis on trying to cram in too many damning details, maybe assuming that many people will only watch tonight. Hey, if the show is good tonight, the audience will grow, similar to how a dramatic series builds a following. After all, what's at stake here, other than the future of DEMOCRACY, itself? 

Among the networks expected to carry the live broadcasts are: ABC, CBS, CNN, C-SPAN, NBC/MSNBC, PBS and YouTube. Here's the January 6th Committee's website. For background info, here's a PBS podcast about the upcoming hearings and a NPR report.

In particular, I hope the political and media folks calling the shots understand the audience that the message of this series must be aimed at. To put it simple, in my view, the prime targets ought to be persuadable independents and cynical, discouraged Democrats. 

Thus, I'm saying to forget the Trump cult. Those knuckleheads don't care about the truth and seem quite ready to take The Big Lie and all the little lies to the grave with them. So don't waste any time fretting over what Trumpists have to say -- between gulps of Kool-Aid -- about the committee's hearings.  

We, the patient people, have waited nearly a year-and-a-half to see this process to set the record straight, so stay tuned. Now it's time for some accountability.

Bottom line: Remember, anything can happen on live TV ... that's the truth.  

-- 30 --  

June 10 Update 1: Overall, I give Episode One, the opening show, a B. The highlights were good. No cringe-worthy mistakes.

Update 2: See the video of Episode One go here. 

A Year of Extremes: Remembering 1968, Forgetting the Pueblo

Jan. 23, 1968: The USS Pueblo was captured at sea by North Korean forces. Yet, in 1968, so many other scary things happened, it became easy to look away from what was labeled, "the Pueblo Incident." For instance, the Tet Offensive began in South Vietnam a week later.

Nonetheless, as captives, the Pueblo’s 83 men endured an ordeal that was shocking to an American public that had naively thought its Super Power status meant such things could not happen. At the time I was in the Navy and I had little doubt we would quickly rescue the Pueblo’s crew, even if it meant another war. I was wrong.

Jan. 30: The Tet Offensive began, as the shadowy Viet Cong flexed its muscles and blurred battle lines with simultaneous assaults in many parts of South Vietnam. Even the American embassy in Saigon was attacked.

Mar. 16: Some 500 Vietnamese villagers -- women, children and old men (animals, too) -- were killed by American soldiers on patrol in what came to be known as the My Lai Massacre. However, it would be another 20 months before investigative journalist Seymour Hersh would break the horrifying story of the covered-up massacre, via the Associated Press wire service.

Mar. 31: Facing the burgeoning antiwar-driven campaigns of Sen. Eugene McCarthy and Sen. Robert Kennedy, President Lyndon Johnson suddenly withdrew from the presidential race, declining to run for reelection by saying, “I shall not seek and I will not accept the nomination...”

Apr. 4: America’s most respected civil rights leader, Martin Luther King, was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee. Riots followed in cities coast-to-coast. The bitterness that remained after the dust settled was scary. 

 

In Richmond, it ended an era in which adventurous young Whites patronized some local Black clubs that featured live music. No more Sahara Club for me.

May 13: The USA and North Vietnam began a series of negotiations to end the war in Vietnam that came to be known as the Paris Peace Talks. Ironically, as a backdrop, France, itself, was in chaos. Workers and students had shut down much of the country with a series of strikes. The trains weren’t running, the airports were closed, as were schools, etc.

May 24: On the same day my service in the Navy ended, Father Philip Berrigan and Thomas Lewis (of Artists Concerned About Vietnam) got six-year sentences for destroying federal property, stemming from an incident in which duck blood was poured over draft files at Baltimore’s Selective Service headquarters.

June 3: Artist Andy Warhol nearly died from wounds received from a gunshot fired by Valerie Solanis. She was a sometime writer and one of the many off-beat characters who had occasionally hung out at Warhol’s famous studio, The Factory. 

June 5: Having just won the California primary, Robert Kennedy was assassinated by Sirhan Sirhan in Los Angeles. The hopes of millions that the Vietnam War would end soon died that night.

It’s hard to imagine that Richard Nixon would have been able to defeat Kennedy in the general election. Kennedy's death meant the gravy train being enjoyed by big corporations supplying the war effort would continue to chug along.

June 8: James Earl Ray was arrested in London. Eventually, he was convicted of murdering Martin Luther King. Yet, questions about that crime and Ray's role linger today.

July 23: After watching “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the Westhampton Theatre, I saw The Who play live on stage at the Mosque (now the Altria Theater). The Troggs opened. Standing in the long line to get into the concert, I was quite surprised at how many hippies there were in Richmond.
 

This was in the period in which Pete Townshend and his bandmates were into smashing up their equipment to finish off shows. The acid I took that day served me well.

Aug. 20: Soviet tanks rolled into Czechoslovakia to crush what had been a season of renaissance. As it had been with the construction of the Berlin Wall in 1961 and the terrifying Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, talk of World War III being one button-push away was commonplace.

Aug. 28: In Chicago the Democratic convention that selected Vice President Hubert Humphrey to top its ticket melted down. With tear gas in the air and blood in the streets 178 demonstrators/bystanders were arrested. Many were roughed up on live television. As cops clubbed citizens in the streets, on the convention floor CBS reporters Mike Wallace and Dan Rather were punched.

Watching the riots surrounding the Democratic convention on television, I began wondering if those who were saying our society was coming unglued might be right. Consequently, for the first time my political ideas were aired out in a newspaper, when my letter to the editor about the violence in Chicago was published by the Richmond Times-Dispatch. That experience began a love affair with seeing my name in print.

Oct. 18: At the Summer Olympics at Mexico City, American track stars Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists during the medal ceremony for the 200 meter race. Smith and Carlos wore black gloves (and other symbolic accouterments) for a protest gesture that was widely seen as a “black power” salute.

Nov. 5: Richard Nixon (depicted above) narrowly defeated Hubert Humphrey. Although Humphrey, himself, was for peace, out of loyalty to the sitting president he refused to denounce Johnson’s failing war policy. That mistake cost Humphrey the presidency.

Also elected that day was Shirley Chisholm from Brooklyn. She was the first black female to serve in the House of Representatives.

Dec. 21: The first manned space mission to escape Earth’s gravity and orbit the moon began with the launching of Apollo 8.

Dec. 24: After having its way with them for 11 months, torture and mock executions included, North Korea released all of the members of the Pueblo’s crew but kept the ship. The U.S. Navy seemed to blame the Pueblo’s captain, Commander Lloyd M. "Pete" Bucher, for the entire painful fiasco. Mercifully, the Secretary of the Navy called off any official punishment.

*

After 1968, the general public’s perception of the antiwar movement’s protests as being unpatriotic kaleidoscoped into something else. In June of 1969 LIFE Magazine published “The Faces of the American Dead in Vietnam: One Week’s Toll.” It was a ten-page story that featured photographs and the names of 242 men who had died in the war in one week. It was a typical week at that point of the war.

The effect was dramatic and it brought new supporters to the antiwar movement. Nonetheless, the bloody war went on.

Today, for many of my vintage, 1968 is a year remembered mostly for its daunting series of violent explosions, in particular the assassinations. Yet, for whatever reasons, we Americans have never liked remembering the Pueblo.

-- Words and art by F.T. Rea

Shooters Shoot: The Thrill of Doing It

 

"We cannot get rid of mankind's fleetingly wicked wishes. We can get rid of the machines that make them come true." – Kurt Vonnegut

*

After each AR-15 slaughter, to respond to the calls for banning assault rifles, we hear the gun fetish crowd chanting one of their favorite bullshit lines: "Guns don't kill people, people do." 

It's a tactic to cast the culprit as a "killer," rather than a "shooter." It sells the convenient notion that the evil-doing perpetrator chiefly wanted to make his victims dead. Furthermore, it suggests the death-dealing method wasn't all that important. Thus, why banish one kind of rifle, when it's people that kill people?

Well, I don't buy it. 

From what I've seen, if they were denied their favorite tools, most of America’s mass-murdering shooters haven't appeared to have been schemers who would have simply switched over to bombs or poison. Instead, I believe those massacre-makers using AR-15s craved the intense thrill of shooting rapid-fire rifles at living people. So my take is that crazy spree-shooters don't usually care about much more than their evil mission to shoot at live human targets.  

OK, killers they were, but they weren't bombers or poisoners. They weren't knife-wielders or stranglers. Motive-wise, most have not seemed focused on knocking off specific people to achieve any particular gain. No, they were shooters. 

Shooters shoot. 

The NRA's Wayne LaPierre and the rest of the shills for the firearms industry like to talk about protecting constitutional rights. What they don't want to discuss is that by defending assault rifles they are mostly protecting frivolous thrills for their AR-15-owning members who are collectors and dress-up private militia types. 

Here's what I see: The AR-15 isn't a hunting rifle. Away from the battlefield, it seems to have little practical purpose. However, owners of such rifles surely do enjoy the thrill of shooting exotic weapons with the power to kill a lot of people, ASAP. 

Of course, most such gun aficionados would never shoot people. Yet, as we've all seen too often, for America's architects of bullet-riddled massacres, a sick longing for the wicked experience of shooting at living human targets can become an irresistible urge. It can be part of what forges a monster. What other factors turn some people into amoral monsters is a topic for another day.

Bottom line: We will all be better off if we stop putting AR-15s in the hands of monsters.

Eric E: Jukebox of Americana

Note: Twenty years ago I wrote this profile of Eric "Rick" Stanley for the February 2002 issue of Fifty Plus, a local magazine.

*

'Eric E: Jukebox of Americana' by F.T. Rea

FEBRUARY 2002: Richmond’s "Eric E" is a jukebox of colorful anecdotes about American music. Push any button and out comes another of his takes on some aspect of the music he has found in his midst. Then you get a set that might include a mix of Jazz, Blues, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Rhythm & Blues, Zydeco, Rockabilly, Country & Western, Hip Hop, Soul, Gospel, or Du-Wop. You name it.

Otherwise known as Eric Stanley, Eric E has made a lifelong study of American working-man’s music styles and the connections between them. His understanding of those integral connections -- synapses between genres -- lies at the core of his own authentic style.

All that said, Stanley is on the air, again, with a better-than-ever version of his trademark radio show: the Bebop Boogie & Blues Revue. He’s back after dodging a bullet that came at him out of blue -- prostate cancer. After a routine test alerted him to his situation, he was basically out of the game for a year.

With that ordeal behind him, what comes out of his listeners’ speakers on Sunday nights, between 7 p.m. and midnight, is the Eric E jukebox of Americana. His free-association decision of what recording to play next can be as improvised as a jazz musician landing on just the right note and quirky pause to justify the experimental riff he just played.

Seamlessly, Eric E moves from Jimi Hendrix to Patsy Cline to Muddy Waters to Li’l Ronnie and the Grand Dukes to Stanley Turentine, all, without worrying about why.

In an age of ubiquitous ticky-tacky radio programming, Stanley’s variety-oriented ideas can’t be packaged into a standard format. Thus, his current arrangement with WJMO, 105.7FM, allows him to do as he pleases with the five-hour block of time. He not only hosts the show and selects the music, but he also arranges for the program’s underwriting. In effect, Eric E. is his own boss.

The product, the Bebop Boogie & Blues Revue, is an utter delight. Typical of the Eric E style, he also does the commercials live. With no canned hype, the ads come off more as endorsements than intrusions. At this writing, BB&BR’s five sponsorships, one for each hour, are the Richmond Jazz Society, Plan 9 Music, Kuba Kuba restaurant, the Commercial Taphouse, and Creole Arts.

“If you advertise with me, I’m going in your business,” says Stanley. “If I haven’t been in the place, I don’t accept the ad.”

The Path to Radio

As a child, Eric Stanley spent as much time as he could at his aunt’s restaurant, a spacious old log-house with a stone fireplace. The Hilltop Restaurant, located on US Route 1 in Ashland, catered mostly to a rural black clientele. In the summer he’d cook hamburgers and do what he could to seem useful.

The Hilltop featured live entertainment, mostly acts from what was known as the Chitlin’ Circuit. Down in the basement, Stanley’s uncle poured off-the-record shots of liquor. Fascinated with the raw music and the natural scene surrounding it, Ricky -- a skinny kid with glasses -- soaked up all he could from traveling bluesmen such as Jimmy Reed and Elmore James.

Sometimes Reed would baby-sit for precocious Ricky (who tended to ask too many questions) when his aunt and uncle were running errands for the business. “I remember it from the late '50s to early '60s,” says Stanley with his easy smile. Of the legendary Reed, Stanley recalls: “He’d give me a quarter for the vibrating [lounge] chair, drink whiskey from a little bottle, and play his guitar.”

Stanley’s favorite hit tunes from his childhood? Off the top of his head he answers, “‘In the Still of the Night,’ ‘It’s All in the Game,’ and ‘Twist and Shout,’ the Isley Brothers version.”

During his high school days, playing drums and harmonica in bands, together with performing as a dancing drum major, Stanley leaned that he enjoyed performing in front of a crowd. That yen would resurface.

In 1968, after Stanley finished Virginia Randolph, he went on to study advertising at Virginia Commonwealth University for a couple of years. For the next nine years he was away from the Richmond area, for the most part, studying Early Childhood Education at Bowie State College in Maryland and working as a day-care teacher in Washington. It was during his period in D.C. that he fell into broadcasting.

A friend was hosting a radio program with commentary about prison life. He helped her with the project and began playing some jazz here and there to broaden the narrowly focused show’s appeal. That led to Eric Stanley’s first program of his own, a 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. gig on WPFW-FM.

Color Radio

In 1979 Stanley returned to Richmond, and in 1982, while managing a Reggae band, Awareness Art Ensemble, he found his way to Color Radio. “I got involved with Color Radio because Charles Williams, of the Good Guys band [bass guitar], called and told me they were starting a station on Continental Cablevision and I should get involved,” says Stanley.

Color Radio (1982-84) was the sound heard behind cable television company’s static color-bar test pattern on Channel 36. The station was started by alternative music enthusiasts who were, for the most part, neophyte broadcasters. Some had had experience at college stations.

The sound traveled by phone line from a makeshift studio over Plan 9 record store in Carytown to Continental, which sent the signal out on its lines. The DJs were invited volunteers -- several were musicians -- and they essentially played and said whatever they liked.

The eclectic, spontaneous style Stanley developed then is what he has used when he could ever since. He dubbed his show, “The Frontline -- 360 degrees of Ba-Lack Music.” Stanley closed each show with what has become his signature sign-off as Eric E, the performer: “Gotta go … Gotta go.”

From WANT to WVGO

In the radio business some things change fast, others never change. One day you’re the toast of the town. The next week your front door key doesn’t work because the station’s locks have been changed; you’ve been sacked. Eric Stanley, like anyone who has hung around for any time in the radio biz, has been buffeted about by a variety of stations through all sorts of changes in ownership and format.

The story of how he came to his present gig on Sunday nights picks up in 1988, when WRNL, 910-AM, hired Eric Stanley to host an oldies midday show. Later, he expanded into Saturday nights, with an R&B-oriented oldies show.

In 1990 Harriet McLeod, popular music writer for the Richmond News Leader wrote:

Stanley, music director since January, has set out to make it [WRNL] Richmond’s funkiest radio station, adding to the oldies format B-sides, album cuts, tunes that never charted in the era when sales in black-owned record stores, and often sales of black artists, weren’t counted for the charts. Stanley draws much of his playlist from a personal collection of 5,000 albums, singles, tapes, CDs.

His move to WRXL-FM marked the beginning of the Bebop Boogie & Blues Revue, which Eric E hosted on Sunday nights. Although it was Blues-based, this time he got the freedom to do something closer to what he had done with his Color Radio show. At this point he called his format “free-form.”

Among other things freeform meant taking risks in stride. In speaking of two of his favorite musicians, Miles Davis and John Coltrane, Stanley says, “The ones [musicians] who got the most respect took chances.”

His next move, in 1992, was to WVGO, 106.5-FM. The new station positioned itself as an alternative to "classic rock" and took the Richmond market by storm. Soon Stanley was recognized widely for his amazing crossover success: in other words, a black radio personality appealing to a white audience. Suddenly he was everywhere; hosting live events for the station and the darling of local entertainment writers.

On the air Eric E pushed the envelope, even for a station with a so-called “alternative” format. In addition to his “almost anything but opera” style of presentation he made a point of playing the recordings of local acts, too; such as Boy O Boy, the Good Guys and Theories of the Old School.

In 1994, having acted as DJ/host of a blues night at Mulligan’s Sports Bar for five years, he moved his act to Memphis Bar & Grill in Shockoe Bottom. There he played records and presented live music on Wednesday night for two years. But in October of 1995 the wind shifted in the market once again. Eric E and WVGO went their separate ways. And the next year he moved his live version of Bebop Boogie & Blues Revue to the Moondance Saloon. At this point he was also busy doing voice-overs for commercials and acting as a consultant and/or executive producer for several area bands' recording projects.

Diagnosis and Recovery

Over the years the resourceful Eric Stanley has worked a number of jobs to fill in and around his show business activities. It was in one of those situations that he suddenly learned of a totally unexpected problem. A screening for prostate cancer, conducted through his workplace, Haley Pontiac, revealed that he had no viable option to surgery, which took place in July of 2000.

Since this meant no work for a lengthy spell and his insurance was inadequate to cover all the ramifications, money problems loomed, not to mention the natural worry about his prognosis. Although these were dark days, there was a shaft of light at the end of the tunnel.

Enter two friends: Marilyn Marable and Lee Pillsbury. Overnight they organized a benefit show at Alley Katz, a Shockoe Bottom live stage. The all-star lineup included; Plunky & Oneness, Rene Marie, Jazz Poets Society, Bio Ritmo, The Deprogrammers/Good Guys (a combination of the two bands), Car Bomb, Inc., The Nighthawks, Helel, and Fighting Gravity.

Of the night of the Alley Katz extravaganza, Stanley says: "The most humbling thing was when they put that benefit on."

Today, cancer free and undergoing no cancer-related treatment, he laughs at an unflattering photograph of a somewhat wan-looking Eric E that accompanied an article about the benefit. "When I saw that picture of me I thought I was dying."

Since then the American Cancer Society has approached him about acting as a spokesman for the organization, speaking to groups of men on the importance of testing.

“Since I’m exercising and eating better, I may be healthier than I was,” says the ever upbeat Stanley. “Last year, I was diagnosed and treated for cancer. Thanks to God, a real good woman [the previously mentioned Marilyn Marable], a good doctor, and the mojo [a green bag of mysterious herbs, bone powder and who-knows-what? he picked up in New Orleans years ago] I keep in my pocket, I'm still here and laughing at you."

Sunday Night Live

Now that Eric E is back in the saddle, the last Arbitron ratings book [as of this writing] reported that the Bebop Boogie & Blues Revue had already shot to a close second to WCDX-FM, Power 92, in his time-slot, among listeners in the 25-to-54 demographic.

So instead of complaining about how lame radio in Richmond can be, the reader is advised to tune in to Eric E for an escape from the ordinary. On top of its entertainment value, his show is not unlike a class in music history. Yes, Stanley sounds very much the professor as he explains, for example, how Muddy Waters put together the traditional electrified blues ensemble of two guitars, drums and harmonica, with piano on occasion.

In fact, Professor Eric E is teaching a class, American Music: Blues, Hip Hop, Jazz, and Rock 'n' Roll, at St. Catherine’s School this semester. So the young ladies on Grove Avenue, nestled up to the Country Club of Virginia, are learning how Chuck Berry took Country & Western songs and gave them a Blues shuffle-beat in order to become a Rock ‘n’ Roll pioneer.

Those private school students will also be exposed to Eric E. Stanley’s well-honed thoughts on the power of music to reach across cultural barriers. Of music’s ability to bring people of different backgrounds together he says: “Many times it’s the hammer that breaks the wall down.”

From the Hilltop Restaurant, by way of countless hours of platter-spinning air-time, Eric Stanley, 52-years-old on February 26 (a birthday he shares with music legends Fats Domino and Johnny Cash), is at the top of his game, again.

Meanwhile, as the former hamburger flipper and dancing drum major would no doubt say at this point, “Gotta go … gotta go.”

* 

Note: A year-and-a-half later, it was my sad duty to write the piece that follows for Richmond.com:

RICHMOND, VA (August 19, 2003): The horns wailed as they entered the Arthur Ashe Center. At about 12:30 p.m. a brass New Orleans-style procession playing "Just A Closer Walk With Thee" led the family, friends and fans of the late L. Eric "Rick" Stanley into the memorial ceremony.

It was a service for the deejay known to his local listeners as Eric E. Stanley died on August 12, 2003.

The program billed the occasion as a "celebration of life." What followed the procession, two hours-plus of music and colorful Rick Stanley anecdotes with a somewhat restrained dose of old-time religion, lived up to the billing.

Many of the faces in the crowd of approximately 1,500 were familiar to anyone who has followed the live music scene in Richmond over the last 20-some years. Interestingly, for a city reputed to be trapped in habits that separate blacks from whites, Stanley once again demonstrated his unique ability to appeal to both sides of Broad Street.

Eric Stanley, who was 53 when cancer took his life, was the host and producer of the Bebop, Boogie, & Blues Review, a radio show of his own invention that was heard most recently on WJMO-105.7FM on Sunday nights. As well, he was a promoter/producer of many live shows.

Stanley's bright-eyed daughter, Erin Stanley, closed her remarks with her father's trademark radio sign-off: "Gotta go ... gotta go."

Tears flowed – of course they did – but the overall mood in the room was decidedly upbeat. Stanley's presence was symbolized throughout the cavernous space by photographs and other traditional remembrances on display, which included his own harmonica – a Hohner Pro Harp, a 10-hole diatonic with black cover-plates.

For the recessional the musicians played "When the Saints Go Marching In" to lead the gathering into the sunlight.

Those who were so disposed went to the closest restaurant/bar, Dabney's, where a lively reception ensued, and lingered. No doubt, it was a crowd Rick Stanley would have enjoyed being a part of.

His silent black harmonica was there. 

-- 30 --

 

Photo by Al Wekelo