The Jazz Bus: Country Music Comes To Long Island
It has been years since we had a true full time country music station in this area. Long Island never seemed to be a hot bed for “country” activity. Bands seem to shun the area mostly getting as close as the PNC Arena in Jersey or the casinos of the tri state. So additionally for this area live country music was a rarity just like a radio station. Taking it back to the 70’s I do remember WHN-AM and most recently WYNY as country outlets, both too short lived. Clubs like Max’s Kansas City featured Waylon Jennings in 1973, a show still considered a breakthrough in our area, followed by acts appearing at The Lone Star (later uptown as Lone Star RoadHouse) but on Long Island only a few small places catered to the true fan.
Demographic studies done by radio land execs proved that the Country music fan is not what some believe; a missing tooth or two, hard drinking, driving a rusted pickup, trailer park heartbreaker. No, today’s fan is primarily a married, home owner, with two cars and a mortgage: a suburbanite. The group lately has been slightly skewed toward the female variety, aka the CONSUMER, and a great loyal audience base. That same study indicates that if a country music station built upon this estimated fan base that station will surpass the listener base of say WPLJ, one of the most listened to stations in the tristate area.
It’s here, the station anyway, MY COUNTRY 96.1 (WJVC) broadcasting out of Center Moriches. Only problem for me (Far West Suffolk County) is the signal is either too weak or non-existent at certain times of the day. However, the ease of the internet allows me the opportunity to pick 96.1 up on my computer, (LICOUNTRY.COM) where I spend way too much time anyway.
Country music is the new Rock, simple. Well at least it is for us “older rockers” who wish to see great musicianship, live. Recently in my travels to NYC (Madison Square Garden) I saw Brad, Keith, Sugarland, Kenny, et. al. and compared those great shows with the musicianship of Eric, Jeff, Jimmy, Alvin. Sacrilegious some would say.
July 3, LI DUCKS Stadium, The Country Music Fest sponsored by the aforementioned MY COUNTRY 96.1. Arriving a few minutes before the starting time of 6P.M. we found the parking lot almost filled to capacity. Walking toward the stadium one could see a sea of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and of course the obligatory “Daisy Dukes”. With recorded music soaring in the arena spontaneous line dancing sprung up and we didn’t even start LIVE yet. After a few announcements the show was off and running. Six bands in 3 hours, downtime minimal due to each band using the same equipment, twenty five minute sets, BINGO, fireworks at 9. A wonderful night of music was had by all. Amazingly but somewhat expected ,the “buzz” in the exits was all positive; Great show, great sightlines, good sound, video screens a plus, all the concessions were opened all night, bathrooms spotless… you get the idea. Another “surprise” show will be announced soon. I’m in. jazzbus@gmail.com
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Stick Ball Anyone?
The Jazz Bus: Stick Ball Anyone?
Recently I took a drive through the neighborhood. With school closed for the summer I knew I needed to drive cautiously as I would probably see plenty of kids riding bikes, playing in the streets, jumping rope, just having the time of their lives. What I saw was streets that were eerie, emptier than Dodge City’s Main Street during a noon showdown. Coincidentally, Cat Stevens, “Where Do the Children Play?” was on the radio. His mantra rolled around in my head for a bit. Then it came to me. The roads are basically unsafe. No one stops at the big red STOP sign any longer. Today, the octagonal sign is rather a mere suggestion that the driver slows a bit, from sixty to say a reasonable forty MPH, looking to and fro before speeding up again while driving unimpeded through the intersection. Oh, and all the while on their cell phone and smoking a cigarette with the other hand. My bride tells me I am getting grouchier because I yell and complain when I see things that do not make sense. OK, I am grouchy but rightfully so this time. This makes no sense.
Here’s how it happened: Traveling from Tanner Park on Wilson Avenue I slow as I pass the bait store knowing there is a STOP sign directly ahead at the intersection of Montauk Highway. Out of the corner of my eye a landscaping truck complete with an attached loaded equipment trailer goes through their STOP sign on the service road to my left thereby cutting me off. Luckily I was alone in the car and the only one subjected to possible whiplash. The passenger of the landscaping truck, the one without a seat belt on with his feet on the dashboard grinned widely at our predicament. When I regained my senses I beeped my horn so that they would know I was alright. The driver of the truck rolled down his window and gave me some form of sign language acknowledging that they were okay too. Relived that their entire crew of five in that small truck’s cab as well as the three men perched back in the trailer were safe and sound, I jotted down the phone number painted boldly on the side of their truck. Concerned as I was for their safety I made sure I called that number about every half hour or so from when I got home (about 2 a.m.) .Unfortunately the boss/owner never picked up. I tried again late last night and will again tomorrow.
So today I traveled to another busy intersection, one off the beaten path, parked my car for about fifteen minutes and observed. Yup, just what I thought. I must have missed the legislation issued that a red STOP sign now means NOTHING. Just an octagonal inconvenience placed on the side of the road, a true distraction for the driver. So I propose: no new STOP signs to be made or old ones repaired or restored. Just DRIVE AT YOUR OWN RISK signs like for swimming when there is no lifeguard at the beach.
I remember a time when kids played in the street from sun up to sundown without fear. The bumper sticker needs to be revised, DRIVE CAREFULLY-SCHOOL IS CLOSED.jazzbus@gmail.com
Recently I took a drive through the neighborhood. With school closed for the summer I knew I needed to drive cautiously as I would probably see plenty of kids riding bikes, playing in the streets, jumping rope, just having the time of their lives. What I saw was streets that were eerie, emptier than Dodge City’s Main Street during a noon showdown. Coincidentally, Cat Stevens, “Where Do the Children Play?” was on the radio. His mantra rolled around in my head for a bit. Then it came to me. The roads are basically unsafe. No one stops at the big red STOP sign any longer. Today, the octagonal sign is rather a mere suggestion that the driver slows a bit, from sixty to say a reasonable forty MPH, looking to and fro before speeding up again while driving unimpeded through the intersection. Oh, and all the while on their cell phone and smoking a cigarette with the other hand. My bride tells me I am getting grouchier because I yell and complain when I see things that do not make sense. OK, I am grouchy but rightfully so this time. This makes no sense.
Here’s how it happened: Traveling from Tanner Park on Wilson Avenue I slow as I pass the bait store knowing there is a STOP sign directly ahead at the intersection of Montauk Highway. Out of the corner of my eye a landscaping truck complete with an attached loaded equipment trailer goes through their STOP sign on the service road to my left thereby cutting me off. Luckily I was alone in the car and the only one subjected to possible whiplash. The passenger of the landscaping truck, the one without a seat belt on with his feet on the dashboard grinned widely at our predicament. When I regained my senses I beeped my horn so that they would know I was alright. The driver of the truck rolled down his window and gave me some form of sign language acknowledging that they were okay too. Relived that their entire crew of five in that small truck’s cab as well as the three men perched back in the trailer were safe and sound, I jotted down the phone number painted boldly on the side of their truck. Concerned as I was for their safety I made sure I called that number about every half hour or so from when I got home (about 2 a.m.) .Unfortunately the boss/owner never picked up. I tried again late last night and will again tomorrow.
So today I traveled to another busy intersection, one off the beaten path, parked my car for about fifteen minutes and observed. Yup, just what I thought. I must have missed the legislation issued that a red STOP sign now means NOTHING. Just an octagonal inconvenience placed on the side of the road, a true distraction for the driver. So I propose: no new STOP signs to be made or old ones repaired or restored. Just DRIVE AT YOUR OWN RISK signs like for swimming when there is no lifeguard at the beach.
I remember a time when kids played in the street from sun up to sundown without fear. The bumper sticker needs to be revised, DRIVE CAREFULLY-SCHOOL IS CLOSED.jazzbus@gmail.com
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
