I know these stereotypes are sort of ingrained in us and we seem to believe them without any real justification. So, looking for things to do here on our days off, Gregg Bisonette and I found a very cool jazz club called Thelonius, named after the legendary jazz pianist. It reminded me of a hip club you'd find in New York City back in the 60's. You have to climb a flight of stairs to get up to it. Dimly lit with a long bar and cozy stage, the vibe was very cool. The band, Juan Pablo Hernadez Quinteto (drums, piano, sax, upright bass and electric guitar) were all in their mid to late thirties and all exceptionally talented. Their music was pure jazz but with an obvious Latin flavor, especially rhythmically. Using odd time signatures and poly-rhythms, they reminded me of some of my favorite jazz artists like Pat Metheny, Herbie Hancock and Weather Report. Gregg and I hung out with them on their break and found them to be incredibly warm and friendly. They mentioned that jazz music isn't the most popular style in Argentina so it's difficult to find a following. Too bad, because if these guys were living in New York or LA they'd definitely have a lot of fans. Don't know how many of you like jazz, but I do and these guys were very good.

Everywhere we went, I detected none of the arrogance I had been warned about. If anything, people from Argentina are some of the warmest kindest folks I've ever met.

Check out some of the clips I shot from the stage on the fan page.

The "Little Dume" part probably was coined by local surfers and beach goers in the late sixties-early seventies to describe the beautiful and somewhat inaccessible beach that lies below the cliffs. They called the far western point Big Dume, which was easier to get to and was excepted as the more public area of the beach, and the more private "locals only" part, Little Dume. Besides the beauty and privacy of the place, it boasts some of the best south and southwest facing waves maybe anywhere, certainly in California. There was a time when even speaking to "outsiders" about Little Dume beach would be considered an act of treason by the fiercely territorial local surfers who felt they owned the place. My family and I arrived in Malibu in the mid-eighties when it was still a pretty unknown beach but I have heard stories about how "enforcers" would keep non-locals away by literally dragging them out of the water if they wouldn't leave when told. These days, the secret is definitely out due to word of mouth, the phenomenal flood of new surfers and Internet sites that broadcast every detail about the place (I got some of the facts here from Wikipedia).

Fortunately, I'm old enough to have experienced the days when the secret hadn't gotten out yet. I can remember times when I wished someone would come out and join me in the water. When there were riderless waves coming one after another. Then, maybe one or two or three guys would paddle out and we'd all talk about whatever in between sets and take turns riding incredibly perfect waves until we got tired or hungry. These days, if a good swell comes, it's like a madhouse out there and many times too aggressive for me at my advanced age. Also, with the introduction of "stand-up paddling" (where people stand on a large buoyant longboard and propel themselves with a paddle) there are so many people in the water, many of whom know nothing about the basic skills and etiquette of surfing, there's just a lot of mayhem.
Years ago, when I was thinking about what to name my publishing company, I liked the sound of Little Dume Music and because it has been such a huge part of our lives (it literally was my kids backyard for their entire childhood) I thought it fit perfectly. Later, when Rob, George and I started the label, we decided there was no need to call it anything else.

I hope this is helpful to those who wanted the background, and hope everyone is having a relaxing summer.

photo: Seth Page

I'm glad Rome was the finale. What an extraordinary place. Almost indescribable. We toured the Vatican, saw the Sistine Chapel, went to the Spanish steps. The girls made wishes at the Trevino Fountain, and we had some of the best food on the planet........every day and night we were there (I feel like I've gained 10 pounds already). Gary and Rose Wright have spent a lot of time in Europe, and Italy in particular, so Rose acted as tour guide for my girls when we were working. That was helpful. Thanks Rose.

Hamburg, as many of you know, was where The Beatles worked their music in the early years. Last night, Gary, Rick Derringer, Wally Palmar and I had dinner with some of the people who have history with The Star Club, the famous club where The Beatles played. We met a guy named King Size Taylor (also from Liverpool) who offered Ringo a job as his drummer when he first met John, Paul and George. He claims The Beatles offered Ringo $5 more a week than he could afford, so Ringo became a Beatle. We checked that story out with Ringo this morning, because, you know, everyone's got a story, and it was true. He could've been in King Size Taylors band and missed making history. Crazy.

We are celebrating his birthday tonight with a band dinner after the show. Should be fun.

When we got to the lake (loch), the hillsides were so green it didn't look real. Very few trees, just rolling hills everywhere leading down to the water. We walked through a tiny village by the lake, stopping in to several of the shops. All of them had the famous song Loch Lommond (you take the high road and I'll take the low road) playing. There were kilts and scotch plaid hats, souvenirs of all kinds there. We toyed with the idea of both of us wearing red plaid hats to the gig that night, but backed off when we figured the crowd would think we were a couple of dumb asses. "Oh look there James, they think they're being clever, don't they."

After hanging by the lake for a while, James and Scottie took us for a drive up into the hills to a place called Rest and Be Thankful. An incredible vantage point where you can see for miles. The place got it's name because years ago, before motorized transportation, people would journey up the hill with their possessions either on their backs or on a cart, and when they got to this place, they would rest and be thankful for just making it that far.

Getting back to the song Loch Lommond. There are conflicting stories about what the song means and for whom it was written, but the one I like has to do with a couple of Scottish soldiers who were captured by the English many years ago when Scotland was at war with England. As a way of 'playing' with them, the English announced that one of the soldiers would be freed and one would be executed. The one scheduled to die would never see his true love again on the 'Bonnie Bonnie banks of Loch Lommond' yet his soul would return to Scotland via 'the low road' (death) sooner than his colleague on 'the high road' (life). I'd always thought that song was just this kind of happy tune they sang in pubs and not the serious, heartbreaking story it really is.

Great visit Scotland. Great audience too.

Me and Gregg on Loch Lommond.

As we arrived, there were already hundreds of people waiting to get a glimpse of one of their two remaining homeboys. There is a  real sense of ownership, a feeling that natives of Liverpool are themselves intrinsically connected and part of the history of what The Beatles did. I get that. Looking out the window as we pulled up to the theater, I noticed a young man with the Beatle's faces tattooed on both arms. John and Paul on the left and George and Ringo on the right. Excellently done. There was a brief scuffle with security as Ringo (in the car ahead of us) tried to weave through the unruly crowd. People were screaming for his attention and demanding autographs. A very upset middle aged woman yanked the arm of one of our crew and shoved him into a few other people trying to get to Ringo. The crew guy complained of a sore shoulder later. Safely in our dressing rooms, Ringo, talking about the scene outside, said something like "that was nothing, imagine that times a thousand. We really were scared for our lives." You get the idea.

Show was great. His 95 year old auntie was in the audience. Ringo made a few cracks about how he used to have to run through certain neighborhoods to avoid being beat up or robbed of his school lunch money. I can't remember the names of the neighborhoods, but that got a big laugh. Maybe the coolest thing about the whole experience was that we played on the same stage of The Empire Theatre where The Beatles performed back in 1965.

I am sitting on an old bed writing this. Ringo is sitting next to me talking about the Ilse of Wight concert back in the late sixties that he and his bandmates attended. Bob Dylan played for the first time after his motorcycle accident which kept him in seclusion for many years. The Who and Free played also. Great stories. The reason the Ilse of Wight concert came up is because this years was just last week and it rained hard for most of it. Tonight it's raining and this is an outdoor gig. Bummer. People are lining up though, standing with their umbrellas waiting. I suppose if I had never seen one of The Beatles perform, I'd stand in pouring rain too.

Got to get warmed up......

UPDATE:  Amazing the influence Ringo has........it didn't rain. About five minutes before we went on it suddenly stopped. Nice to see his kids and grandchildren there tonight. He clearly loved it.

Something that surprised me (well I had actually heard this before) was how sexuality is handled here. And this says something about the contradictory nature of American morality. A local expatriate musician I met who grew up in Minnesota but moved over here after he met and had a baby with a Norwegian girl (those vikings) was telling me that young adults, teenagers really, will have sleepovers with friends of the opposite sex openly, with the approval of their parents. Some as young as 13 and 14. Now I'm a fairly forward thinking guy, but I can't imagine allowing one of my kids (especially my daughters.........double standard, I know) permission to have sex at that age. They were probably doing it anyway without me knowing, but anyway he went on to tell me that when he visited the states with his son and stayed with his cousin who had kids of the same age, he noticed that his cousins kids were allowed to watch the most violent films and play the most vile video games but weren't allowed to watch films like America Pie, which had some fairly explicit sexual references. On the other hand, his son, who grew up in Scandinavia couldn't watch the violent stuff, but was allowed to see more sexually open films. But here's the bottom line. Norway isn't even close, per capita, to having the problem the U.S. has with sexual predators, the sexually obsessed and perverted. Also, the violent crime rate here isn't really a big issue. As a matter of fact, people are kind of shocked when they here of it. They even held a day of morning for an elderly woman who was hurt when two young men knocked her to the ground and took her purse. Of course, this was a while ago and things have changed somewhat, but what a huge difference in attitude about sex and violence. We could learn a lot from the Norwegians and Swedes. Great people.

Ok, that's it. I'm off my soapbox.