tag:madewellmusic.com,2005:/blogs/pedestrian-ramblings-6868f95d-6192-4e3e-a841-10f4407e4ab5?p=9Pedestrian Ramblings2024-03-11T12:05:06-04:00Steve Madewellfalsetag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/73650962024-03-11T12:05:06-04:002024-03-11T12:06:16-04:00A Fascinating Coincidence... The Harmony Patrician<p>A fascinating coincidence <br>I have been performing on some level since I was 13 years old and over the years I have had an adventure or two. On occasion, I have been known to forget something either going to or leaving a gig. I have forgotten a microphone, mic cables, mic stands, speaker cables, extension cords, picks, and capo’s. In other words just about every accessory that you can think of and use at a gig. Once, after a gig, I forgot to shut the rear hatch on my Volkswagen bus and drove nearly forty miles home with a stack of guitars on the rear deck. I was very lucky one or all didn’t bounce out on the highway.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/564e9f2502721c21bec065f93d230d15cd840728/original/guitar-on-stage-kosecek.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_m justify_center border_" height="2448" /><p>One night I left three guitars at the Greenville in Chagrin Falls. Jimmy, the manager, was sitting at the bar with a grin on his face when I came in the next day. He said I figured you would show up as soon as we opened. I did.</p><p>This week was a new one. I drove 47 miles to play at the Jenks Building in Cuyahoga Falls. This is a new venue for me and I was excited to be performing there. The place is a hub for a community of artists, with gallery and retail space, and several performance areas too. It has a cool vibe and a well-deserved reputation.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/cead42de1886b1a91e5207cfc9a3b339d1a1e72d/original/jenks-1929.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_s justify_right border_" height="3264" /><p>As I pulled up to the building, I had a total energy collapse when I realized I had failed to put my guitars in the car. My stomach dropped, the top of my head lifted and I was just spinning. I texted MJ and simply said, I forgot my guitars.</p><p>I normally slow down my performance schedule in the winter months, but for some reason, I had booked five gigs in 8 days. It was akin to going from zero to 100 on the quarter-mile track. Maybe that full immersion into the deep end of the pool could explain this boneheaded move or maybe it was the shift in weather.</p><p>The temperature had dropped from 58 to 22 over a twenty-four-hour period, and I have to say, that kind of screws with me a little bit. Whatever it was, I was guitar-less and scheduled to start playing in 45 minutes. It was a 55-minute drive to get to the Jenks from my house.</p><p>MJ texted me back asking what could she do, and at the same time, I got a message from Katy Robinson telling me she was afraid she would have to miss my show.</p><p>Katy lives nearby and her text made me wonder if I could borrow a guitar from her, or anyone else in the area. As I was walking into the building, I tried to call her to no avail. I introduced myself at the retail counter explained my situation, and asked the lady if she knew anyone who could lend me a guitar. She asked me for any specific guitar, and I replied that I could make any acoustic guitar work. She said give me a minute. My mind was racing, and I wasn’t thinking about who I might know in the area, but I called Paul Kovac who might be able to refer me to some nearby players. I did not relish the idea of telling him I was at a gig without my instruments and therefore set myself as the subject for a lifetime of mild ribbing, but I was in a tight spot, and Paul is always good for a suggestion or two.</p><p>While I was telling him about my dilemma, and hearing the first “Oh wow, your first gig at this place and you forgot your guitar?”, and I heard someone say, “Hey Steve, I got a guitar for you. It is a Patrician.”</p><p>The Patrician.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/08bcc3c04d36a2a41bfd5d4ca22001e2eaa12aae/original/jenks-patrician.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" height="3443" width="1768" /><p>Harmony made guitars for a long time. They are probably best known for their “Stella”. The Stella is a parlor-sized, simply made instrument that was often sold through mail-order catalogs. Harmony also made some higher-end flattop and arch-top guitars and recently I have been checking out arch-tops when they appear on Market Place. They are selling anywhere from $100 to 500. I missed a couple of good deals. The morning before my show at the Jenks Building, I saw a listing for a Harmony Patrician. Harmony had a whole line of Arch-tops ranging from entry-level to moderately nice instruments. I seemed to recall hearing that the Patrician was one of their higher-end models. The product description indicated that it was 1962, lightly played, and being sold by the original owner. It was listed for a little more than I wanted to pay, but I was interested.</p><p>Later that evening I found myself playing on a borrowed Patrician. What a coincidence!</p><p>This particular guitar played reasonably well and had that distinctive mid-range cut that arch-tops are known for. This one was pretty decked out too. It had to be a limited production model as it had ornate binding and in-lay on the headstock, indicative that this was indeed a high-end model.</p><p>When I got home, I sent an inquiry out about the Market Place listing and made arrangements to go see the guitar. Not that I am superstitious, but this was just too big of a coincidence.</p><p>Long story short, after a gig in Youngstown, I drove another 30 minutes into Pennsylvania and met Evan, the man who had listed the guitar on Market Place. He was brokering it for his 82-year-old neighbor, who had bought the guitar new in 1962 for his mother. She never learned to play, died a few years later and the guitar had been in storage since.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/a97f53a098ed8b5d9bc90a68d6e77be266487d4d/original/patrician-books.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" height="4032" width="3024" /><p>Evan had taken the guitar to a friend who had changed the strings and modified the bridge to improve its playability. I wasn’t too thrilled about the bridge modification, but other than that, it was in mint condition for a 1962 guitar. It is in incredibly clean condition, with hardly a noticeable blemish. It even had the original “How to take care of your Harmony guitar” brochure in the case, along with two Mel Bay instruction books.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/4ccaf33b313560734c74d0c4a4a5178e55318527/original/1962-patrician-and-care-book.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" height="4032" width="3024" /><p>So yes, I have another guitar. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/73538552024-02-19T16:56:44-05:002024-03-11T11:53:42-04:00A Different Perspective From A Little Old Instrument <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/ee8b82d358816381a0193eb8a2ff2be58dd8a954/original/img-2801.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>Like many other musicians I know, I have a random collection of instruments I really don’t play. This includes a host of small percussion instruments, shakers, clickers, hand drums, a few kalimbas, a xylophone, a “can-jo” and some electronic music-making devices. Some of these I have purchased, but a great number have been given to me, including an old banjolele and a Loar mandolin.</p><p>The banjolele is a U-King, and was probably made in the 1920s or 30s'. It came complete with a heart, some names and the notes of the strings written on the calfskin head. For many years the banjolele hung on the wall or sat in the corner as a conversation piece, until one day I got the notion that I should string it up. Using a short wooden pencil as a bridge and some random (approximately gauged) guitar strings I did just that. I was surprised at how loud the little instrument was and decided that I would take it to a repair shop and have it properly reconditioned.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/b7b0f8a7dbcc5a439ff1343df84e169a0d0414a8/original/img-2805.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><p>After a nominal investment, I was entertaining myself sitting around the house flailing away on this thing.</p><p>Now as I understand, these instruments were supposed to be vigorously strummed, but that was not the sound that was enchanting me. I was developing an approach that was sort of a hybrid between cross-picking and frailing. Cross-picking is how I play many songs on the guitar and involves using a combination of a flat pick and fingerpicking. Frailing is an old-style banjo technique often used in traditional or traditional-sounding songs. And that was the sound I was going for.</p><p>I was thinking about my song, Drake Hollow, and how I wanted it to sound. The story is set pre-Civil War so I wanted an “old-timey” vibe and playing the banjolele with this approach seemed to fit the bill. Before long, and after an upgrade from the original tuners, as the original ones just wouldn’t hold tune, I was experimenting with a number of my other songs.</p><p>When Bill Lestock had recorded the New Little Willie Blues, I had invited Mark Olitsky to the session to play old-style banjo, and Mark brought a wonderful musical lick to the song that was just perfect. It didn’t change the character of the piece, but added an authenticity that I didn’t even realize was missing. Mark, by the way, is a renowned old-style banjo player, and I was delighted he could participate in that project.</p><p>The story of The New Little Willie Blues, like Drake Hollow, takes place in a bygone era, and I am often looking for a musical technique or approach that helps illuminate that point. I loved what Mark was doing, but it never occurred to me to try to replicate that lick on the guitar, until I was playing around with the banjolele.</p><p>After some experimentation, I found that I was replicating, in a simple way, Mr. Olitsky’s banjo part, and feeling pretty good about it. But, as you might suspect, these little instruments have unique tunings, and while I was doing this musical passage correctly, it was in a different key.</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/af3f3bd3a3f880632146f68941de943424299fa9/original/img-4698.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_m justify_right border_" /><p>One morning as I was practicing, I started singing along and discovered that, in this key, with this little instrument, the song changed once again. I was motivated to work up a comparable arrangement on the guitar in the banjolele key.</p><p>This whole experience reminded me how important it can be to occasionally take the time to look at a situation from a different perspective. Even when things are good, a different view or approach can occasionally lead to a greater understanding, a fresh approach a source of motivation, or maybe just a little joy.</p><p>I am glad I got her back into playing shape. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/73495102024-02-11T09:53:53-05:002024-02-15T20:15:41-05:00A Small Salute To Black History Month <p><span>If you have heard me perform “Drake Hollow”, you have probably heard me share the story of how I wrote the song. At the risk of redundancy, let me chronicle that story here as well. </span></p><p><span>We happen to live in a very special place. Our house is located alongside a creek that for a hundred years or so, was utilized to supply power to a number of mills. I won’t delve deeply into the remarkable history of the valley in this essay. Right across the creek from our house, there used to be a structure that was originally constructed as a boarding house for the mill workers. Ultimately, it was converted into a residence by Hawley Drake. </span></p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/3bb90c848e2d72e6cb259057fade561766088c46/original/img-4648.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p><span>Mr. Drake was an interesting character and a known abolitionist. He offered his residence as a safe house/stopping point for the Underground Railroad. The various Under Ground Railroad routes often follow waterways through Ohio and such was the case here in the valley where I live.</span></p><p><span>Although there have been 10 or more new houses built on the road since we moved here in 1999, there is still enough open space to sense the connection to the history of the valley. </span></p><p><span>A few years back, I w</span><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/0ed5f8e7792bc58734c29c587de4e93547dd23ec/original/image.jpeg" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><span>as taking an early morning walk and as the dawn was breaking, a fog was hanging over the creek. I stopped on the bridge and looked up the stream. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to slip away under the cover of darkness to begin an overland journey from the Deep South to Canada. </span></p><p><span>In a matter of minutes, all of the elements of the song came to me. </span></p><p><span>As the song began to evolve, I hoped to someday share it during Black History Month, and I finally made that happen this week. </span></p><p><span>A studio version will be on my upcoming record, but I posted the version on YouTube that was recorded at Silver Maple House Concerts in November. 2023 .</span><br> </p><p><span>https://youtu.be/9wRLRiho4nY?</span><br> </p><p><span>I hope you enjoy it</span></p><p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/b0ec258432201812416d5bb428c6a619b48fbfd8/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>A look upstream</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/73440682024-02-01T10:20:48-05:002024-02-11T12:47:59-05:00Walking Toward The End Of A Project<p><span>A Way To Listen</span></p><p><span>Most of my recent walking has been occurring on an indoor track this winter. I don't mind, but that setting falls a little short on providing inspiring writing themes. That being said, I find that this type of structured walking provides a perfect opportunity for a very focused listening experience. I often jokingly tell people that I have the attention span of a gnat because I am easily distracted </span></p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/038cf725fa117ccf8f6b16adcb86b8b2957aa515/original/walking-toward-the-end-of-a-project.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p><span>I try to walk three days a week, and as I am working on my fourth solo record, my walking days have provided ample time to review, then review, and re-review arrangements, the final mixes, and the sequence of the songs included in this project. This requires a great deal of focused, un interrupted listening.</span></p><p><span>I guess I am a little old school but the song sequence on an album is a really big deal to me. Maybe I grew up in the heyday of the recorded album, when an LP would be put on, played continuously from one song to the next, and often flipped to side two and played from beginning to end. I came to appreciate a good album that would provide a listening experience that flowed from song to song. This flow was product of the musical key, tempo, and the general feel and continuity of each song from one to the next.. </span></p><p><span>In my mind, song selection and song sequence have a great deal to do with how a recording project fits together. The chapters in a novel are a good analogy. A chapter from a book might be able to stand alone as a story, but in totality the collection, and proper sequence of the chapters are essential to create a much greater, comprehensive story. . </span></p><p><span>In today's world of digital streaming, the concept of an album has greatly suffered. Since the beginning of recorded music, singles have always dominated the market, and for several decades the 45 RPM record was king, providing a convenient medium for DJs and jukeboxes to play, and for school kids to buy one at a time. But for several decades beginning in the late 60s' albums were a predominate way for many people to enjoy music. In my book, an album has always been the ultimate listening experience. </span></p><p><span>I always feel like I get a more personal connection with the artist, and in some instances, the recording engineers and producers when listening to an album.</span></p><p><span>On today's streaming platforms algorithms automatically group single songs, from multiple artists, based on similarities in listener demographics and preferences. It is very hard for an independent artist to get placement on an algorithm-driven playlist. </span></p><p><span>Even when a recorded album of material is purchased and downloaded, listeners create their own playlists and in effect create their own themed albums. This is nothing new, just the process has changed. An argument could be made this first started when a sequence of 45's could be stacked on the spindle of a record player. Maybe this was the first "home made" play list. And this became more sophisticated in the late 70's when it became popular to make cassette mix tapes.</span></p><p><span>I would argue a playlist doesn't take the place of a selection and sequence of songs mindfully curated by the composer/performer and producer. So I spend a great deal of time thinking about this as I listen to the songs playing from one to the next. Then, I move them around to see if the mood or feel of the collection changes. And I do this until I find what I think is "right". It always makes me happy when someone tells me that they have listened to one of my projects from beginning to end, and I hope they enjoyed the collection as much as the individual songs. </span></p><p><span>While I am fretting about the song sequence, I am also listening to the mix and arrangement of each song. That is the volume and blend between all of the instruments and vocals, and, when certain musical parts are added or muted, and how all these components work togehter.</span></p><p><span>I forward all of my notes to the producer that I am working with, Matin Stansbury who happens to live in the UK. We have an ongoing dialog about each of the songs and the project as a whole. And Martin is not only fun to work with but he is really quite brilliant. Advances in technology has made it possible to transfer large music files with few if any problems. I can record parts, or tracks, here in my studio and send them to Martin with no trouble at all. It's really quite remarkable. </span></p><p><span>After the mix is solid and the arrangements are where they should be, the next step is mastering the recordings. That involves some final tonal adjustments and balancing the volume from song to song, but also the volume and tonality of the entire project. And we are getting close to the final mastering stage of the process. </span></p><p><span>Once mastering is done, each song will have a digital code registered with BMI, which happens to be my PRO (performing rights organization).</span></p><p><span>These digital codes enable BMI to keep track of how often these songs may be played on radio or digital streaming platforms. And as you might guess, this is how royalty payments are determined. </span></p><p><span>While Martin is finishing the mastering of the project, I will continue to work on the copy for liner notes, DJ "one sheets', and with layout and graphic artist to develop and produce all of the artwork associated with the album. </span></p><p><span>While copyrights have been secured for all of the songs included on the album, I will file a copyright for the entire album as a collection. </span></p><p><span>If this sounds like a lot of work, I can assure you it is. People will occassionally ask me if I make any money selling albums. For the most part it may be a break even proposition at best, and in reality, it is my local performances that finance my recording projects. </span></p><p><span>So the next obvious question is, "Why do I do this?" And there are really several answers to this question. First, it motivates me to formalize the ideas I have for my original tunes, and this improves my live performaces. Secondly there is reward of creating something that is tangible on some level. Something that still exists after the performance is over. Perhaps most importantly, it is a way of sharing this music that I create and perform. And sometimes, someone will come up to me and share something personal about how much a song means to them, and that makes it all worthwhile. </span></p><p><span>See you the trail, (or track)</span></p><p><span>Steve </span></p><p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/c29dec67279c3809bb66414839c1a2ea0de8adef/original/image.jpeg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p><br> </p><p> </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/73256872023-12-29T07:21:56-05:002024-02-15T20:15:41-05:00The Faith Of An Artist <p><span class="text-big">An inspiration from my cousin Jay Madewell.</span></p><p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/1665797200d69963f49685cd59eae6e186809d3c/original/image.png" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><p> </p><p>I really didn’t know my cousin Jay. Well, actually he was the son of my cousin, so I guess that means he was my second cousin. I never professed to master all the terms of lineage.</p><p>Jay was 16 years younger than me, and we never interacted as adults. The only thing I can remember about him was leaving a family event at my parents' house and Jay repeatedly running off the porch into the hedges. I don’t mean running and jumping off of the porch, I mean running full speed off of the porch and falling headlong into the juniper and yew shrubs. I told him he could get hurt and he should stop doing this. He didn’t.</p><p>Forty-plus years later I found myself driving to a memorial service for Jay. At fifty-one years old, his death was tragic and I wanted to show some compassion and support for his parents, and siblings. His folks had always been caring and helpful to my parents, and his sister has been close to my daughter. She and I have stayed in touch over the years. Losing my brother a few years ago is still an open wound. I simply wanted to offer a hug.</p><p>I knew Jay had been involved with music as a young adult, but I didn’t really appreciate the level of activity and devotion he had focused on performing arts. Reading his obituary and assorted Facebook posts I rapidly gained some insight into his engagement and presence in the southwestern Ohio music community.</p><p>The event I was driving to was being hosted at a Dayton music venue as a gathering of friends and family. I didn’t know if his parents would be there because it was being held at a tavern. Some of my family have very strong feelings about alcohol, and I had read that a subsequent service was being planned for a later date at a church.</p><p>When I arrived, there were already hundreds of people there, and I was happy to see Jay’s parent were in attendance. I got there just before memorials were shared by two of Jay’s closest friends and I am glad that I got the hear them.</p><p>From the time I had heard about his passing, to the instant I was hearing these shared recollections and thoughts, I had come to realize that Jay was indeed an artist and had devoted his life to this calling. He was a drummer, founded several bands, was a music promoter, and a DJ. He had owned a record store in Oxford, Ohio, and was involved with several film projects. He had clearly touched the lives of countless people. I heard stories of his mentorship to friends and protégés, financial help he had provided to artist in need, and the endless emotional support and encouragement he had given to others.</p><p> </p><img src="https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t31.18172-8/244247_10101026981063634_2011436127_o.jpg?_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=9b3078&_nc_ohc=bCh3VTbQUBIAX-6kcRI&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&oh=00_AfBirBcArP0zofzDhmdNe7cGJCx_uOnxS0oc5R95AIyrOA&oe=65B62699" class="size_s justify_left border_" alt="No photo description available." /><p> </p><p>People joked about being in Jay’s Lunch Club, a circle of people that Jay would occasionally take to lunch and share his thoughts on things they might consider doing differently, and the Room-mate Club, folks that showed up at his door when they needed a place to stay for a few days or a few months.</p><p>I not only heard about his passion, and his pursuit of excellence, but how he could be insistent, and most often, correct in his opinion.</p><p>Like most artist, he did things that some folks just couldn’t understand. He had rented a warehouse space that was full of not only his drum kits but dozens of keyboards, vintage amplifiers, and a lot of boutique gear. I supposed that he recognized these were important creative tools irregardless if he ever used them. To me, this collection was indicative of not just being an artist, but also someone who was a student and steward of the art of composing and creating contemporary music. Perhaps he didn’t want these tools to be lost and he was holding them for some future use.</p><p> </p><img src="https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/410193726_10106454202573496_5303686775511221418_n.jpg?_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=dd5e9f&_nc_ohc=UKNVtHjF95cAX_rmUVe&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&oh=00_AfBIUt_P4fwAewnqEWuLspVBbmt9uv6GEQcI569PJXYV5A&oe=6593C3E5" class="size_m justify_center border_" alt="May be an image of text" /><p> </p><p>Like most artists, he appeared to be eccentric.</p><p>Our family at large, was not very well equipped to support an artistic lifestyle. Both of my parents, as was the case with Jay’s grandparents, had come from very humble beginnings in rural Tennessee. By today’s standards we could say they were born into poverty, and through tireless hard work had found their way to a middle-class existence.</p><p>Such a life doesn’t have much room for the perceived luxury or art, and these values are often passed along from generation to generation.</p><p>It seems to me that being poor is a condition many people may not be able to escape, and consequently, must accept. But, if by a series of events, good fortune and hard work, one escapes the clutches of poverty, that person never forgets what it was like to be hungry.</p><p>Such was the case of my parents, and most of my aunts and uncles. They were consciously aware of the cost of everything, and the ephemeral nature of comfort. In that mindset, there was little room for luxury, as luxury could easily be construed as opulence, and opulence was wasteful. Waste can be a horrible notion for someone who remembers what is was like to be without.</p><p>A very important component to the path that led my parents beyond the limitations they were born into was their religious convictions, and for the most part, this was consistent through my father's side of our family. This included Jay’s grandfather. Religious faith was a huge part of our upbringing. Fundamental religions expect a complete and total commitment. And for a large part, the reward for that commitment is the promise of a life in heaven.</p><p>Now the end game in this equation is the notion of eternal life, and by being devote, you could make it through the pearly gates. So from my perspective, this faith is driven by the promise of a personal reward. While at Jay’s gathering I found myself pondering faith in a much different way.</p><p>Anything beyond simple household decorations was just not a part of my upbringing. I am comfortable in saying this was surly accurately for my cousins as well.</p><p>For the most part, art was simply outside of the world we grew up in. That is not to say members of our family were not artistic, that is not the case at all. I am saying there was little to no understanding of how to support the pursuit of an art form and an artistic lifestyle.</p><p>Being an artist, does not allow room for much else. A great deal, if not everything, revolves around this calling.</p><p>Analyzing and trying to understand my own upbringing is exactly what made me feel so proud and emotional at Jay’s gathering. It was apparent that Jay was an artist and he had lived as an artist.</p><p>I have read numerous interviews and articles with, and about musicians and songwriters. Sometimes when they are asked why they do what they do, the answers range from, “This is my job”. to “I don’t know, it is something I have to do”.</p><p> </p><img src="https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.6435-9/119167866_10219176171181145_4612307024261324849_n.jpg?_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=7a1959&_nc_ohc=m84fy9hQxP4AX-OQp6z&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&oh=00_AfA9puo8FmMGXYxhpSYBPvissWlvIzGXdEMN3SIUizUqyQ&oe=65B60FEA" class="size_m justify_center border_" alt="No photo description available." /><p> </p><p>I think there is something else at play and that is the unquantifiable, inherent belief that this thing called art may touch the lives of others and may make the world a better place. Maybe by bringing forth an emotion, pain, joy, sadness, or laughter, or creating motivation or hope, or maybe calling attention to good or evil, an artist might make the world a better place. I think this is the unspoken, and maybe un described faith of an artist.</p><p>Certainly there are intrinsic rewards associated with being an artist. Emotional rewards associated with the act of creating. Accolades given from people who appreciate the work. Maybe even some financial return on the hours of time and money invested in this pursuit. But when all of the dust settles, there is something else that compels and artist. Maybe it is simply faith.</p><p>A faith fuels the deep drive to make and create art that may on some scale, on some level, make the world a better place.</p><p>Maybe that is why Jay did what he did.</p><p>And looking around at the tremendous gathering of friends and colleagues, it was obvious, Jay’s art and lifestyle had enriched the lives of so many. It certainly enriched mine. I wished I known him.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/72687412023-09-04T22:26:38-04:002023-10-16T10:55:59-04:00Shorty's Pro Tip<p><span><strong>Pedestrian Ramblings</strong></span></p><p>Notes from Shorty’s Kitchen<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/d93028255f0e9b5510cf219f37f970d6ca568a9e/original/img-1463.heic/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p>Fall 2023</p><p><strong>Shorty's Coffee-Making Protip</strong></p><p>I haven’t posted anything in a while from the kitchen. I have friends who post a lot of pictures of food, or themselves holding fish, and some folks playing music. I guess I do that too, but I try to stop myself from being too predictable, or one-dimensional. I mean after all how exciting can it be to see another grip and grin picture of a steelhead or a brown trout? Although I do admit, I have a propensity to post a lot of music shots but that is kinda of business.</p><p>Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I find that a surprising number of people make comments or inquiries about Shorty’s. More than one person has pm’d me asking for directions, and I guess I added to the confusion by making a couple of posts from Shorty’s Creek Side and Shorty’s Barn Annex. For whatever reason, posts from Shorty’s Kitchen have a bit of a following. I have posted pictures of coffee, food, and kitchen utensils, but rarely “pro tips” which is what this rambling is about.</p><p> </p><p>I think it is safe to say that in every relationship there are certain things, or maybe spaces that are unique to one individual. Regardless of the depth of the notion of shared property, almost everyone in a relationship has something that is specific to them. In Shorty’s Kitchen, I am merely a short-order cook, a transient worker, a “busser’, and maybe, on a good day a sou chief. I am often entrusted with essential cleaning assignments or held slightly accountable for cleaning up after myself. I rarely, if ever venture into the realm of using power equipment, like the Hobart, or any of the food processing equipment that is found in the kitchen, with two exceptions. The first was an Osterizer blender that I had in college, and yes, its primary function back then was associated with rum beverages. It is remarkable that it still functions, and my grandson Hugh has given me the title of “Smoothie King”. The second is the Braun coffee grinder.</p><p> </p><p>As I am the only coffee drinker in the house, I am the only person to consistently use this appliance, and it falls into that category of something that is exclusively mine. Consequently, the maintenance and care of the Braun coffee grinder is solely my responsibility. Aside from occasionally being unplugged and moved, it is rarely touched by another hand. I have to admit, I never read the owner's manual or instructions that must have come with this unit, and I can’t even recall how it happened to come into my possession. My routine care calls once and a while require the unwrapping and rewrapping of the excess cord in the clever but ineffective storage area at the bottom. I was delighted to realize after several years of use, that the top cover makes a perfect scoop to move coffee from a large container into the “grinding bay”. (I just made that term up, grinding bay!) Other than plugging it in, scooping in coffee, pushing the top down, moving the ground coffee to the Melita, and fiddling with the cord, I haven’t done anything but repeat this process. And it has worked flawlessly, until the other day.</p><p>I’m not a coffee fanatic, but I get a little anxious in the morning as I start to make my morning java. I don't want to say excited, but I could easily use that term, so I hope I am setting the stage here to illustrate the dumbfounded state I was in when I tried to push the top down and nothing happened. Of course with all of the clear-witted thinking you would expect from a foggy-brained decaffeinated old man, I tried to push it down several more times, until the reality stuck, I had a problem.</p><p>Now, generally speaking, I like a problem, really I do. I kind of enjoy trying to fix things, make stuff go, resolve conflict, all that stuff, until I get overwhelmed with my own inability, bored, distracted, or realize I really don’t care if the problem is resolved or not.</p><p>This was a different situation. I needed some coffee, and I was going to focus on the problem at hand, until such point I needed to go buy some coffee.</p><p>No big issue here, closer examination revealed that there was this small protuberance on the top of the Braun that fit into a hole on the bottom unit, and when the lid was pushed down, the little protuberance, pushed a recessed on-off button activated the grinder motor. A little scrutiny revealed that after years of use, despite my devotional care and attention to this dependable little appliance, this hole was plugged up with ground coffee.</p><p>I don’t recall ever washing or wiping down this thing, so there is a logical explanation for why it wasn’t working.</p><p>This was a simple fix. I turned to one of my most dependable tools, a toothpick. I use toothpicks for all kinds of stuff! And sure enough, a toothpick once again, resolved the morning crisis. If you are thinking this was the pro tip, consider the info on the toothpick a bonus, here is the pro tip.</p><p>I’ll ask you to recall that the top of the Braun makes the perfect scoop to place coffee in the “grinder bay”, and it being morning, I had filled the bay with coffee beans. If you are ever going to clean the on-off buttonhole in a coffee grinder, filled with a toothpick, you should wear safety glasses, or empty the beans because when you push the toothpick into that hole, you will activate the motor resulting in a spectacular explosion of coffee beans. I mean, a really remarkable, cluster bomb eruption occurs. The other option is before cleaning out the little hole with a toothpick, unplug the appliance.</p><p>And that’s all from Shorty.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/72602442023-08-21T08:02:38-04:002023-09-04T22:24:26-04:00Feeling Alive…<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/96fbc7b68d9b662814d450ae9640df9f19eab4a8/original/image.png/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p><strong>Some days I feel alive…</strong></p><p><span>I was listening to some music the other night in the barn and I felt so engaged and moved by what I was hearing. It was so good to be focused and endulging my senses in such a way, and I know it is a privilege to allow myself the time to do this. All things have a price and I suppose I have been reprioritizing how I spend my time for several years now. I often find myself thinking about a prized quote from an old friend who once said about another acquaintance “I think his give-a-shitter is broke.” And I find myself wondering is my “give-a-shitter” broke?</span></p><p><span>I don’t think so, but who knows? </span></p><p><span>What I do know is there are moments when I feel more a live than I have in years. I am not saying that I haven’t been engaged and productive in the past few decades, oh quite the contrary, I think I was so consumed with what I was doing both in intensity and in quantity that I really wasn’t absorbing much inspiration at all. I was in a high altitude, high performance situation and was constantly moving, but without any significant feeling of personal growth.</span></p><p><span>It has taken several years to re-adjust and I find moments when I feel more alive than I have felt in years. And what is really interesting, is often these moments are in the confines of the barn or at home, not in some spectacular natural setting, but rather just being where I am. </span></p><p><span>Time and age being what it is, I will say that my physical awareness might be classified as pain, ie body aches, stiffness what have you, but I can embrace that. And yes I have to acknowledge that this is a laugh out loud kind of statement, but I suppose being aware of aches and pains are better than being oblivious to my place in the world around me</span></p><p><span>There is another thing that happens as well. As I find comfort in this new awareness, I am noticing that during my performances I am finding my way to a different zone, a place where I am not escaping or hiding in the music, but rather finding a special place in the moment. It is hard to explain and maybe hard to understand, but somehow it just seems right. </span></p><p>Now if I can just get motivated to use the string trimmer.<br> </p><p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/306eacc0e60bef0948092da00077a668293808b7/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/72570562023-08-14T21:15:37-04:002023-08-14T21:15:37-04:00Brookwood 8/18/2023<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/d150248e5d5df15a10c4d24d52b9886daace99c7/original/image.png/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p><strong>This is an emotional return</strong></p><p>In the spring of 2012, I started what would be my last public sector position. I had been hired as the Executive Director for the Metroparks Serving the Toledo Area. The interview and vetting process had taken well over three months and I had spent considerable time studying operational policies, publications, budgets, organizational charts, and property maps. My first 8 months were nothing less than an intense blur of activity and my first week was a whirlwind, but I was both humbled and excited for this new opportunity.</p><p>The Friday of that first week, I was touring the parks with Dave Zenk and trying to make as many stops as we could in one day. In my prep work, I had read about a facility referred to as the “Brookwood Cultural Center”, but there was no public space listed in any park literature, and I asked Dave to tell me about this place. He was uncomfortable with the subject and did his best to give me a quick background on the project, and he asked me if I want to go there. And of course, I did. </p><p> </p><p>A property, along with a nice house and outbuilding had been donated to the park system by Virginia Belt, a popular piano instructor. Her family also bequeathed a significant endowment for the maintenance and care of the facility with the condition that the property be used to promote cultural activities. Shortly after the property had been transferred, the park administration changed and the new team had no ownership in the project and evidently had no interest in trying to develop a strategy to use the buildings and grounds in any way. A cultural arts center was seen as something well outside of the mission and services of the Metroparks.</p><p>For all intent and purpose, the house had been unused and sitting closed up for over ten years when Dave walked through on our tour that day. It was a musty, moldy mess. Both Dave and I agreed that this was completely unacceptable. He appeared to be embarrassed with the situation and I was simply dumbfounded. </p><p>The next week I ask the staff to pull all of the files on Brookwood and set about reviewing the history of the project, and while this was a great concern, it could not be a top priority. I was recommending that the Park Board pursue a new levy in 6 months and if that passed, the agency would have the financial resources to address Brookwood and a host of other significant capital projects.</p><p> </p><p>Long story short, the ten-year levy passed which resulted in an additional 60 million dollars for the agency to invest in park improvements. Brookwood was one of those projects. </p><p>In addition to the physical renovations, there was also the issue of developing a use plan that would be acceptable to the family who donated the property. As I spent time reviewing the project history, I was sure that there was a way to find a way to use the facility and grounds in a manner that would be appealing to representatives of the Belt family. </p><p>Fast forward 11 years and I am thrilled to returning to Brookwood to perform for a capacity crowd. I can assure you that it will be an emotional evening for me.!</p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/a0c4a64e40899b49607601a1c24ca7a9e6627804/original/image.png/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p>Friday, August 18, 8 p.m.</p><p>Reservations Required, Tickets are FREE or <a class="no-pjax" href="https://metroparkstoledo.com/learn-and-play/special-events-and-programs/music-in-green-spaces/pay-what-you-want/"><span>Pay What You Want</span></a></p><p>SOLD OUT</p><p><i>While enjoying a remarkable career in the conservation field, Steve maintained an active musical performance schedule. He started performing when he was 13-years-old and he has never stopped. </i></p><p><i>He has released three solo projects, Rivers and Trails, Arrow Creek, and most recently, Hometown Blues. This project hit 15 on the FAI folk charts for April 2022.</i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i> His songs have been described as subtle musical "arrangements with words that carry substantial weight." Many of his tunes incorporate bits of Ohio history giving his musical stories a tie to place and an organic validity. In addition to performing as a solo artist, Steve has many side projects with other musicians and musical ensembles. John Barile will be joining Steve for the evening. John is an accomplished multi-instrumentalist and he is constantly performing across Ohio. This duo was a standout at the 2022 Lake Erie Folk Festival!</i></p><p>Steve Madewell </p><p> with special guest John Barile</p><p> Brookwood Area*</p><p> Friday, August 18, 7 p.m. </p><p>*Brookwood Area is an intimate listening room experience. Advanced reservations are required. All tickets are complimentary. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/72210672023-06-04T22:51:54-04:002023-08-08T09:07:22-04:00Return From SERFA 23 <p><span>The Southeastern Region Folk Alliance Conference was a great time, basically two and a half days of nonstop music: performances, listening, discussions and networking. This was topped off with an informal killer jam at one of Asheville’s coolest breweries, hosted by a pair of incredibly hardworking music business professionals. We are talking three nights of going full tilt until 3 AM. </span></p><p><span><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/e85a7461789cc89cc2fbd885da5f146acc28a077/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_m justify_left border_" />It was great. </span></p><p> </p><p><span>I convinced MJ that she should fly down and join me after the conference, which she did. After a 12 hour snafu and a couple of delays, I picked her up at the Asheville airport at after midnight on Monday morning. </span></p><p><span>Asheville is a pretty cool hang and, after a leisurely Monday morning recovery, we set out to enjoy some incredible food and some lovely spots in and around the city including: Biscuit Head, Chai Pani, the Trail Head, the Botanical Garden, the Bob Moog and the Folk Art Museums. <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/8b36c0b6409ad9833a28c9ab8e42473834a2cc1f/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_s justify_right border_" /></span></p><p><span>When we left town on Wednesday AM we elected to drive several hours on the Blue Ridge Parkway and loved every minute. I couldn’t help but marvel at the vision to create this remarkable road and the engineering involved in building it. It was just lovely, with incredible scenic vistas and enjoyable visitor centers. </span></p><p><span><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/e6115c7c5c479ba52cb5b1f803b7147d5a41ccdb/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_s justify_left border_" />My plan was to drive the parkway for while before jumping on the interstate and heading up to the New RIver Gorge National Park. We had been rafting on the New River years ago and driven through the area several times since. But I hadn’t been there since the area became a national park.</span></p><p><span>And this is when the return trip started to get interesting.</span></p><p><span>After enjoying an array of unbelievable great food in Asheville, I was hoping to find a stellar breakfast place. A quick internet scan led me to this place with great views of the gorge. The food reviews were all over the place, but I was thinking, good view with a basic breakfast was worth the twenty minute drive. </span></p><p><span>Well, maybe not. <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/339170325616d4d8f0db61af0b05b750dadc4025/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_s justify_right border_" /></span></p><p><span>The drive involved traversing several miles of a paved one and a half lane road with a two foot gravel berm on each side, and the oncoming locals did not slow down a bit to pass by. The restaurant was actually in a lodge, and it did have remarkable views. Unfortunately, they did not have a breakfast menu, but offered a buffet weaker than what you might at a Comfort Inn. </span></p><p><span>We passed, and decided we would go back to a little town where we had seen a Tudor Biscuit World.</span></p><p><span>I am not going to going into the dissertation on the food, but somehow the experience kinda made me proud to say, I have eaten several times at a Waffle House, but I have only eaten once at a Tudor Biscuit World. </span></p><p><span>Think about that for a minute.</span></p><p><span>After eating, we did a really enjoyable driving tour of the gorge and began to make our way back to the interstate, and wound up driving through a small coal mining town, complete with two “company” stores. They were both closed up and in disrepair, but what a flood of emotion. All of the songs I have heard, or sang over the years that referenced the company store came trickling back into my mind. I had to stop and get a picture. All I could think about was what a cool music venue that place could be. A great Pa. musician Tom Breiding, has devoted a large effort in researching and recording songs from the coal fields and has promised to send me some stories about this place. He performed at this building. </span></p><p><span> </span><a class="no-pjax" href="https://tombreiding.com/"><span><u>https://tombreiding.com/</u></span></a></p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/f0ab9d5eff24edaf66e99f178171da5c79a3af1f/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><br> </p><p><span>We continued our way back to the interstate and resumed our 70 mile an hour way back north. </span></p><p><span>And the return leg of the trip gets more interesting.</span></p><p><span>We were approaching the West Virginia/Ohio boarder around lunch time, and I seemed to recall there was a Cracker Barrel at Marietta. After the breakfast experience I wasn’t up for a gamble and that seemed like a safe bet.</span></p><p><span>Unfortunately, a truck cut me off at the Marietta exit and the next exit only had a Subway. In what turned out to be a less than wise decision, I opted to drive by, thinking surely the next exit would have better options. </span></p><p><span>MJ was saying lets just grab something at a McDonalds, when I my priorities shifted from food to gas. I had planned on getting off in Marietta for something to eat and fuel. I suddenly had a sinking realization that Interstate 77 is not at all like Interstate 71. I drive from my house to Dayton dozens of times each year, and I am conditioned to hitting an exit every few miles and nearly every exit has a gas station. </span></p><p><span>But the time we hit the next exit, my Honda CRV was telling me I had a driving range of 9 miles. We soon realized that cell service was a little lacking too. When we pulled off the interstate and searched for the nearest gas station, for some reason my results were coming up for Marietta, Georgia. Whoa!</span></p><p><span>Ultimately, my phone’s GPS got oriented and indicated that there was a gas station 7 miles away. So we set out driving down “Cat something” road. It was a very rural road, and to my horror, we soon drove by a sign that said Road Closed 6 miles ahead. By now, the GPS was indicating that the gas station was 5.5 miles ahead so we were committed to moving along. </span></p><p><span>I turned off the AC which boosted the gas mileage, and we hit a really long grade so I let the car coast, so things were looking kinda bright on the “old distance to the gas station vs available gas ratio”.</span></p><p><span>We were approaching a T intersection and our GPS was indicating that I was going to turn left, and sure enough there was a sign that indicated the road was closed ahead. A reasonable person might assume the road “closed ahead” would refer to the section of the road “ahead”, but no, the our route to the left was missing a bridge. </span></p><p><span>Now it just so happened there was a man on a riding mower, cutting the grass at a boarded up house, so I stopped and got out of the car, he shut off his mower, and I asked him if I could buy some gas. </span></p><p><span>He looked at me and said, “Gas?” and he titled his head back an laughed. I don’t know if that was for effect or if he really thought that was funny. He looked at me and asked, “Are you out of gas.” And I assured him that I was pretty close. As it turned out, there were several gallons stored in a shed behind the house, which I gladly bought, and with new wind in the sails and a set of verbal instructions we were off to Lowell, Ohio, where there was one gas station and one restaurant. </span></p><p><span>As it turned out, the Mexican restaurant didn't open for another couple hours, so it was back to the interstate. I should probably mention that my travel companion had been quite supportive and had not, nor has not to this point said anything like, “What the hell were you thinking?” But she did say, “Your father would be fit to be tied if he was here.” And she was right.</span></p><p><span>Now you might ask, could things get any more interesting? Why yes they could. </span></p><p><span>Having been beaten down by the interstate travel gods, who were probably ticked off because I had driven several hours on the Blue Ridge Park Way the day before, I was now humbled into submission and read to resume the contemporary travel model of stopping at a fast food place for a drive by, grab and go meal.</span></p><p><span> Soooo, we pulled off the next exit that had that world renowned chow house McDonalds. I noticed a Wendy’s across the street and asked MJ if she had a culinary preference. McDonalds got the nod. We got out to take the time for a “dining in’ experience. The young lady at the counter was leaning against the wall, staring up and off in the distance, and said, “Our computers are down and we aren’t taking any orders.” I asked what the prognosis was and she said, “We’re just waiting.”</span></p><p><span>Off to Wendy’s. Thinking maybe this was a sign that we should just stay in the car, we pulled into the line for the Wendy’s drive through, only to be greeted by a young fellow, in a Wendy’s uniform and serving gloves who told us they weren’t taking any orders because the fryers were down and the maintenance guys were there. </span></p><p><span>So all we could do was continue north.</span></p><p><span>Ultimately we did get food, and we did make it home, but what a day of travel. </span></p><p><span>I decided a couple months back that my motto for the year would be, “Why be frustrated when you can be amazed.” I think this will serve me well. </span></p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/ca1024ff00a488b69f4cc09c45d2968ba2a3e9b1/original/image.jpeg/!!/meta%3AeyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><br> </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/71764522023-03-22T11:38:27-04:002023-03-22T21:53:29-04:00Lapel Pins #1 Green E. Groundhog. And, yes, it was just like the sit-com "Park and Recreation" <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/29fce86f55c97cd2b941dd8eb18cfa131c06531f/original/d6467784-892e-40d9-ace8-53b2370f0bd3.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" />The Green E. Groundhog and Litter Prevention Lapel Pin…</p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/1ed21739134cc7ade2b858981003191a2b48000e/original/4a9b5f56-b7ab-43ca-ba2f-387d567ae20c.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p> </p><p>Quite possibly the first lapel pin I ever received. It is a token from a program funded by a state of Ohio Litter Prevention grant awarded to the Green County Parks and Recreation Department in, I believe 1982. As innocuous as this sounds, this grant program was pretty important to the park system. </p><p>Ronald Regan began his presidency in 1981, and while he couldn’t repeal the budget that had been passed by congress, he refused to sign authorizations to release money for certain federal programs. Ed Dressler was the director of the GCR&P department and he was all about grants. As a matter of fact, the department was primarily funded by grants. When the president closed the federal cash flow, the park system lost 70% of it’s anticipated operating funds. It seemed the whole country was caught up in a wave of NEO conservatism and the county had adopted an attrition policy, forgoing any new or replacement hires for “non-essential” positions. As it turned out, the fellow who had hired me, John Humston, took a job in another county, and it was unclear if his position was going to be filled. When John left and the first way of budget reductions kicked in, I went from being in a department of two full-time and 4 part-time folks, to being the “Lone Ranger”. </p><p>These were interesting times. </p><p>The funding reductions came in waves, and I got the word in February that I was technically unemployed. Let me explain what I mean by I got the word. I was attending the Cleveland Metroparks Ranger Training Academy, and I was summoned out of class to take a phone call. The assistant director of the park system, Ed Bice, was calling me to let me know that the funding source I was being paid with had also been suspended. I was in a 6-week training program that was 2 weeks on and 2 weeks off, stretching over three months. I was halfway through the second session, staying at a cheap hotel, with the county vehicle. I asked Ed what should I do with the vehicle since I was technically not a county employee. He said to continue going to the classes and we would figure something out. MJ and I and our two daughters, had just moved into a park house, so this added to the uncertainty. </p><p>Long story short, Ed D and Ed B were able to find some money to keep me employed for the remained of the year with another grant program through the Juvenile Court system. Seems that the Federal Justice Department funds were exempt from the President's discretionary control. So for the next 9 months, I supervised teenagers who were one offense away from being incarcerated, while working on park projects. </p><p>That year Ohio had a “bottle bill” on the ballot, that failed. It would have required a deposit on all beverage containers. The fast food, and beverage industry offered an alternative program in their campaign against this issue. They funded a three-year grant program to educate Ohioans on the evil of littering. It was really absurd, but our agency was a wreck and we had some creative people, including a couple of very good grant writers. For three years we received the largest litter prevention and education grant awards in Ohio and we used that money to creatively restaff. I think in total we received over $350,000, in those days, that was a substantial slug of cash, and a heck of a lot of bru-ha about litter.</p><p>Some of the programs were so convoluted it was painfully like the TV sitcom “Parks and Recreation.” One of the objectives of the educational program was to declare Greene County a litter awareness area. We had a mascot, Green E Groundhog, a parade float, t-shirts, billboards, special trash cans, activities, and handouts… such as this plastic lapel pin.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/71704942023-03-13T15:31:37-04:002023-03-13T23:00:23-04:00Taking A Walk<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/f6cd4998dbe9ae150e0332e0ec3d315d51ba300c/original/img-2524.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_xl justify_left border_" /></p><p> </p><p><br><strong>Taking a walk</strong><br>I took a short hike today that brought back a flood of memories. Over 30 years ago, I’d walked the same trail, shortly after it had been built. I started working for Lake Metroparks in 1988 and all of the trails, across the entire park system, were abysmal. Girdled Road, Chapin Forest, Indian Point, were all a mess. A horse and rider had actually gotten stuck in the mire at Girdled Road Reservation. <br><br>At that time, the big focus was on building or renovating facilities like Farm Park, Fairport Harbor, Painesville Township Park, Erie Shores, and Penitentiary Glen. These projects were all contracted construction projects, improving and expanding the trail system was up to the Natural Resources Department. This happened to be one of the operations that I was responsible for.</p><p>The fellow who supervised this department was John Grantham, and he and I ultimately became really good friends. We certainly shared some major adventures. In addition to being the absolute best park operations person I had ever worked with, he was the best I had ever met. </p><p>Walking this trail this morning reminded me of just what a remarkable person John was.</p><p>It was a perfect mid-March day, mid 30’s with lite snow falling. The trailhead meandered through a “hemlock flat”. That is a relatively flat area that is dominated by eastern hemlocks. I recall when the staff and I had laid this trail out, i.e. chose the route. With all of the construction going on across the park system, there had been a public outcry about over-developing the parks. To mitigate this concern, I set up an environmental review process to gather input from representatives of all the staff as well as an interdisciplinary volunteer group of experts we called the natural resource advisory council. This process served the park system well for 10 years or so and was utilized for not only park construction projects but also land acquisition priorities. </p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/625348a0c5b1aa216a7b0c52d105b82f54f2e9e8/original/img-2516.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>The route we choose had minimal ecological impacts and as opposed to a straight path, it wound through the hemlocks creating a sense of wonder and intrigue. We had received some harsh criticism from trail improvements at Chapin Forest associated with the use of crushed limestone, so with this project to make the trail appear that it had always been there, John came up with the idea to use crushed sandstone from a local quarry.</p><p>The end product was and still is a delightful loop trail that provides access to a remarkable “stairway” leading down into a spectacular valley.</p><p>The stairway by itself is an incredible piece of work and when I walked on it today, I was amazed to see how well it was holding up after three decades. I was also astounded to think about the physical work involved in building this.</p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/392484/961892916563b5b0aa864e842813ac41e8327739/original/img-2519.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p>John was a very driven person. He expected hard work and nothing short of excellence from his crews. He was not always popular with his subordinates, but they all respected him immensely. I knew from my own experience that very few people could physically keep up with John. But he was also an amazingly intelligent person who just could know, figure out, or find the best way to accomplish nearly any project. </p><p>I recall on more than one occasion going out to check on the progress of a trail project and telling the crews how much I appreciated their work, and John would later ask me why did I do that. He would tell me he had just jumped on them for taking too long a break or not being as productive as he wanted them to be, and we would laugh about it.</p><p>This particular descent was exceptionally challenging and involved the installation of several hundred steps, multiple switchbacks, and sections of retaining walls. All of which was “engineered or designed” on the location, as the project was being built.</p><p>It was, and still is somewhat amazing.</p><p>I can’t imagine how many people have enjoyed the trail and the incredible views and can’t help but wonder how many took the time to marvel at this project.</p><p>John recently passed away and am still in a state of loss and shock, but my, what a wonderful legacy John left. He was involved in designing, building, and/or renovating miles and miles of trail across Lake Metroparks, creating dozens of wetlands and too many habitat restoration projects to keep track of. As a result of his work, he enriched the lives of thousands and thousands of park visitors who simply could not imagine what was involved with building the trail they enjoyed. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/71347232023-01-08T11:36:29-05:002023-01-08T11:36:30-05:00Playing For Tips<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/76488ff0e5217950bd9c3ca6ef5dcb2038850d8f/original/street-perform-2.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Over the holidays, my ramblings took me to Arlington, Virginia. A mere week after dealing with negative 14-degree temperatures, I found myself walking along the Potomac River basking in the sunshine and pleasant spring-like conditions. I always enjoy visiting the greater metropolitan area around Washington D.C., and while I didn’t make it to the nation's capital or take in any significant monuments this time, I still took in a great meal and had a lovely afternoon stroll along the riverfront. </p>
<p>There were a couple of musicians performing on a shop-lined street, closed to vehicles and open only for pedestrian traffic. Street performers always bring me joy and I had a smile on my face as I listened to these artists. I had very little exposure to street performers growing up in a small village in southwest Ohio, and I guess I was brought up thinking street performers were one step above “panhandlers”. My good old midwestern upbringing had me programmed to believe “these folks need to get a job”. It never occurred to me that they were working. </p>
<p>That concept didn’t sink in until I was on a business trip to Vancouver, Canada. That is when I began to understand and appreciate “busking”. There was a preponderance of street performers all across the city and on Victoria Island too, and these folks were amazing artists. Jugglers, mimes, magicians, and all sorts of musicians. I was simply astounded. Many had appropriately sized PA systems and very tasteful displays for related merchandise, and after talking to a few performers, I found that the cities and local municipalities regulated and even scheduled “buskers” at certain locations. </p>
<p>Back in Ohio, I knew many communities had ordinances prohibiting this sort of thing, so this was a real eye opening experience. I started performing when I was a teenager and had certainly played on many a door stoop and in several parks, but I had never played for tips. As a youngster, I had a few friends who had, and almost everyone of them had been shut down and harassed by either a store owner or the local authorities, so being in a large metropolitan area and finding that the community embraced street performing was somewhat of a revelation. </p>
<p>Then there is the whole concept of playing for tips. <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/d1d67ba1975b56f73cfa784cfe9c8c3fd2c6c8ed/original/street-performer-1.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I don’t really know why, but I always thought that my fees for a gig were between me and the venue, and taking, or heaven forbid soliciting tips would basically imply that I wasn’t getting paid what I was worth, thus insulting the management and reducing me to a panhandler. Now I did play a few places that as part of the clubs' performance ritual, the establishment “passed the hat” and added that till to my take for the evening, but other than that, I never put out a tip jar, until… </p>
<p>About the time I started writing songs (again), I happened to be reading a lot about Buddhist philosophies. I came across several essays about humility and the importance of not only expressing but also receiving gratitude. At that time I had a bit of an epiphany and realized that tips were not solely about income but they provided an opportunity for people to express their gratitude for the gift of music I was sharing. Now I put out <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/303f45a69ddb3220f893b551abb618cebda9a8ef/original/screen-shot-2023-01-04-at-1-46-18-pm.png/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsInNtYWxsIl1d.png" class="size_s justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p>Since my trip to Vancouver, I have enjoyed street musicians in several countries and major cities across the United States and I still have vivid memories of several of these remarkable artists; an incredible vocal group of pre-teens in Dublin, a mind-blowing guitarist in London, a fellow playing in Seattle on an upright bass made out of an automobile gas tank and exhaust pipe, and a host of others. Each one of them left me with something much more valuable that the tip I dropped in their case. </p>
<p>And here is one final story on busking, back in 2007 Joshua Bell cracked open his violin case at the L’Enfant Plaza and set out to play a little music at the subway station. He happens to be one of the world's foremost concert violinists. He played for about an hour, was recognized by a few folks, and made $52 in tips. </p>
<p>I guess fifty-two bucks for an hour isn’t too bad. </p>
<p>See you on the trail. </p>
<p> </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/71028722022-11-15T14:59:20-05:002022-11-15T15:46:44-05:00Brought On By A Sip Of Coffee <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f014aba2596705a903bf90a70f8fa637360961e1/original/fall-sky.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_none" alt="" />This morning I made a very strong cup of coffee and my first sip reminded me of deer hunting with my father. It was something we started doing together when I was 13. He and my uncle Marvin allowed me and my cousin, Keith, to join them on what was their third Ohio deer hunting season. They had borrowed a truck with a huge camper shell for the four of us to use and so it began. </p>
<p><br>There were many memories created on that first trip, and their recollection brings a smile to my face. I hate to say it, but I am the only member of that party that is still alive. Without getting into a deep narrative about that first year, I can summarize by saying my uncle and father were completely shocked at how much two teenage boys can eat. Back then it was a big deal to even see a deer in Ohio. Some things have definitely changed. I am sure some of you will be happy to read no deer were harmed in the making of this memory. </p>
<p><br>For the next fifty years, at daybreak on the Monday following Thanksgiving, I was sitting in the woods somewhere in Ohio. For the majority of those mornings, my father was sitting somewhere nearby. The early years were spent near the border of Pike and Jackson Counties in south central Ohio. Pop had some acquaintances with property down there and over the years we had secured permission to hunt on several hundred acres. Initially, it was just the four of us. That group waxed and waned over the years to include other relatives, and the accommodations shifted from tent camping to trailers, then back to tents again. I can assure you that tent camping in late November is an adventure unto its own, but add the notion of heading out into the woods an hour before dawn and you have the making of some very special memories. </p>
<p><br>For the first ten years or so, Dad always cooked, and he always made a pretty strong cup of coffee. For whatever reason, I had a pretty heavy hand this morning and that first taste brought back a flood of memories that were so powerful, I set aside my plans for a bit to take a moment to capture this little reflection. </p>
<p><br>In the mid 80’s I took a position as the Director of the Geauga Park District and my family and I moved to northeast Ohio. For several years the only deer hunting dad and I did was an occasional late-season muzzle-loader outing. One year, I had the opportunity to drive back down south and I came strolling into the old deer camp completely unannounced and joined up with two of my uncles, several cousins, and my pop. Dad was in his early 70s and the camping conditions were pretty rough. I knew the year before he had taken a fall and whacked his head on a tree, and I thought it might be a good idea to go check the situation out. </p>
<p><br>The terrain in south-central Ohio is fairly rugged, and the idea of my 70-year-old dad walking around without a partner concerned me. With the best of gear, winter tent camping is tough and this was not a group with a penchant for state-of-the-art outdoor equipment. The overnight accommodations were minimal at best. There was more than a little after-hour drinking and I knew dad didn’t care for that so figured I would try to convince Pop to come up and hunt with me and my son Phil in the relative luxury of the Conneaut Creek Club. There was a primitive but very functional cabin, nice trails, and much less challenging terrain. Ultimately, I convinced him to come north and for the next 15 years or so, barring any health issues, pop would come up a join us for a few days. </p>
<p><br>For several years there we had quite the “army” of deer hunters, my son, son-in-law, nephew, Dad, several friends, and on a couple of occasions, two of my non-hunting brothers. We shared some great meals, had more than a few adventures, and shared innumerable laughs. We created some really special memories. One year, D’Arcy Egan from the Cleveland Plain Dealer joined us and wrote an article about the “traditional Madewell Deer Camp”. Dad was so proud of that article, that he asked me to get a copy framed to hang on the dining room wall. <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e973297edf38bcdd25cedad2f14d44c0afa03c58/original/img-1111.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_center border_none" alt="" /><br>Dad lived a long life, and his passing was the about as perfect conclusion to life as anyone could ask for. I think the last year he hunted with us he was 89. People age and pass on, or move away, and priorities and obligations change. My son Phil now lives in Bozeman, and many of the regulars who joined us have also moved away. It is just not the same.</p>
<p>2020 was the first time in fifty years, I was not in the woods on the opening day of the Ohio deer gun season. </p>
<p>Some of the fellows at the club have asked me to organize and conduct the 2022 deer camp, and I will, but nearly all of the faces have changed. But perhaps I can help them build some memories and pass on a bit of the special camaraderie that we shared in our “deer camp” for so many years. </p>
<p><br>This was a good cup of coffee. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/70937262022-11-02T11:26:23-04:002022-11-02T11:26:23-04:00FARM 2022<p>Recently my time “afield” hasn’t involved much pedestrian activity at all. Driving, however, now that is another story. I’ve spent time in five states in the course of the last six days!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2b2d541e85e04ce4bc9e64b1056277e62c6eed6f/original/farm-kerrville-private-showcase.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />In addition to a few local gigs, I had a host of performances in SW Ohio and ran up to Chicago for a music conference for the mid-west region of Folk Alliance. The official acronym is FARM, i.e. Folk Alliance Region Midwest. This was my second FARM and I attended the South East Region (SERFA) conference In May this year. It is hard to get out of the normal routine and it takes an investment of time and money to do something different. But I have found that it is invigorating to hear so much amazing music and make so many new acquaintances. </p>
<p>There are several Folk Alliance regions across the country and each has its own gathering or conference. Also, there is the national conference. Basically, these regional conferences have a similar structure but I am told they each have their own vibe. There are small classroom workshops or educational sessions during the day, general sessions for all in attendance, curated showcases, and late-night private showcases. Attendees include performers, venue hosts, folk DJs, promoters, and booking agents. Each region has a conference committee that puts the event together and I know from my past life in the park world, this is a great deal of work. </p>
<p>The daily workshops provide educational sessions and insight into the business of music that mostly involve career advancement as diverse as promotion, scheduling, and building a tour to home recording techniques. There are a series of primary presentations either as individuals and panels and a keynote presentation as well. There are always thought-provoking, informative, and inspirational. </p>
<p>The curated showcases are selected from a pool of applicants or selected by the DJs in attendance. And I can assure you the performers in the curated showcases are without exception, incredible. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/adb56a4c2d787c1af8f20bf38f7250a8f1714cfb/original/farm-jamming.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_right border_none" alt="" />After the formal sessions wind down, there are “private showcases”. These a performance opportunities generally hosted by festival planners or listening room venues, who entertain performance requests and make their showcase rosters up from these requests. The private showcases might be a 20-30 minute slot or a shared, song in the round format. There may be 10 private showcases going on at the same time and they may go from 10:00 in the evening until 2:00 in the morning! Doing some quick math you realize, you realize there is a “Whole Lot of Shakin’ Goin’ On”!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e1c5e85467968f01d2944e662a37039e966ec4ef/original/farm-display.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpeg" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />In addition to these activities, anytime a few hundred musicians together with instruments in hand, there is a lot of impromptu jamming and song circles popping up all over the place. <br>If the music wasn't enough to take in, imagine halls lined with tables covered with promotional materials from all the attendees and you have the makings of a sensory overload!</p>
<p>Of course, most of the musicians are hoping to make connections for future or return gigs and there are ample networking opportunities!</p>
<p>It is a very cool experience and I have met some really wonderful folks at each and every one of these events! And if you are so inclined, I will post links to many of these acts below.<br> <br>So here are a couple of sidebar stories:</p>
<p>One of the featured curated showcases this year was a young fellow from Ohio named Ben Gage, who writes a great song and plays harmonica like he was born with one in his mouth. I had heard of Ben but never heard him, I mean, after all, he lives down in Akron. Well, Ben and I kinda hit it off, and come to find out, his folks live in Ashtabula County!</p>
<p>And then there was this other young lady, Megan Bee. I had seen her name and heard a tune or tune but didn’t realize that she was from Athens, Ohio. Megan is delightful and seeing how Athens is sort of a tight community, I asked her if she knew my cousin, Kelly Madewell. As it turns out, Kelly is on Megan's last album. Small world? You know it is!<br>One more little story and then I’ll move on.<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f74a7dca78ddedf8fc172b11daa913ce67b73e5b/original/1e8db644-ed94-4ecf-892b-6f665fa9722e.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpeg" class="size_m justify_right border_none" alt="" /><br>I met this guy, RB Stone who was hanging out with Ben. I immediately sensed that RB had played a few gigs and traveled a few miles. This was RB’s first FARM event. He came on a whim, at the last minute, on the advice of “Smitty”, who books music at the Pump House in Michigan. So RB and I secured a corner cluster of furniture in one of the hotel atriums and over the course of the next two days, played music for about 6 hours! RB is a good guitar player, plays great harp, and simply rips up a cigar box slide guitar! So one night, or should I say, some ridiculously early hour in the morning, I googled him and found that he toured with Billy Jo0 Shaver, has recorded 12 albums, and had a number one blues album in 2019. So there! RB has a place in Nashville and recently bought a house in Findlay to be close to his parents.</p>
<p>By the way, RB is looking for listening gigs in Ohio. </p>
<p>Sometimes you have to work to step out of the box, but when you do, there can be some pretty nice rewards, like some new tunes and a whole lot of energy for the battery!<br> <br>This was almost as good as a long hike!</p>
<p>Here are a few links with more to follow</p>
<p>https://meganbeemusic.com/home</p>
<p>https://www.rbstone.com/</p>
<p>https://www.bengagemusic.com/about</p>
<p>https://www.dougharschmusic.com/</p>
<p>https://www.johnstano.com/</p>
<p>https://www.psychosongs.com/</p>
<p>https://joyzimmermanmusic.com/</p>
<p> </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/70536632022-09-05T17:55:19-04:002022-09-16T23:51:01-04:00Late Summer Rain<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/682b84d282f924eb3019c7d66d8fb5fe9ce46cc5/original/img-1402.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_large">Late Summer Rain</span> </strong></p>
<p><em>The Beginning of Introspection </em></p>
<p>When I was a youngster I thought that August was an awful month, hot, dry, dusty, and humid. Maybe this is because I spent several summers involved in two-a-day football practices and doing farm work, but when I got a summer job taking kids on overnight canoe trips my perspective on August changed. </p>
<p>I realized that as August progressed, the evenings were cooling down, campfires felt a little more inviting, and there was a bit of a chill in the morning air. I eventually embraced the eighth month as my favorite month of the summer. </p>
<p>I still feel this way. </p>
<p>By the time August rolls around, I have settled into the rhythm of the summer, and nothing is too frantic. I have excepted the weeds that didn’t get pulled or the door that didn't get painted. I have generally hit my stride with local performances and I am feeling comfortable with whatever unfolds, and busy enough to not worry about future bookings. </p>
<p>And then it all changes and I start getting very introspective, thinking about the year to date and what might lay ahead.</p>
<p>Many of my friends are triggered by dates or holidays. My dear old friend Burt Carlisle used to say summer was over after the Fourth of July, but then again, Burt was always a bit dramatic and prone to extrapolation!</p>
<p>I do know many folks who equate the end of the summer with Labor Day, the county fair, or kids going back to school. </p>
<p>Not me. </p>
<p>While those events are all pinnacles on the landscape of the summer, it is the first cool, rainy day of September that triggers the end of summer in my psyche. And this rain has a very profound effect on me. I have recognized for years that the fall and winter are very creative times for me. I may catch ideas throughout the spring and summer for songs or stories, but they most commonly manifest themselves in the fall and winter into the beginning of new songs. I suppose I am looking for insight and understanding of the events of the past and at the same time searching for hope and optimism for things to come. I am really not sure, I just recognize we are entering into a very thoughtful time for me.</p>
<p>Right now I am sitting on a number of completed tunes and mulling around which ones will be on my next record. I have grouped several together and shared them with a few colleagues and friends, and while I have gotten some very positive feedback, the selection process is not done. In the meantime, ideas for new songs are coming, and this is no surprise. It has been a very eventful year with so many emotional highs and lows. I have so much to process and writing helps me find the space and grace to deal with both the joys and challenges of life. </p>
<p>With this September rain, I find myself thinking that this is going to be a remarkably busy fall and probably just as busy through the winter.</p>
<p>I would like to make another record, which will involve making final song selections, editing arranging, and recording the tunes, plus doing all of the associated coordination, production, and distribution processes associated with that. And I will be engaging some old and new friends to help with this effort. </p>
<p>Most folks know I have a couple of ongoing musical side projects, the Inter-State All Stars, the Toledo-based JT & Thunder Hill, and the Dayton-based Steve Madewell Band, and throw into the pot, a possible late winter mini-tour with Steve Lundquist and Ms. Caroline Quine. All of which will include rehearsing, a couple of special shows, and planning for some travel performances.</p>
<p>In that mix, I will be lining up local and traveling solo performances for next year, and of course, there are all the things that need to be taken care of here at the Creek House… with an underlying and compelling notion to capture and write more tunes.</p>
<p>It may be time to get some help!</p>
<p>But that being said, we are entering a magical time of year and I am hoping to find the time to enjoy each and every day of it. </p>
<p>All the best,</p>
<p>Steve</p>
<p> </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/70259902022-07-28T20:49:51-04:002022-09-16T23:51:01-04:00Ascending<p>Ascending <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/c3d2f09044342a6c67e33f07eb4f88f748a5db26/original/img-4767.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>We all have moments when we might wonder about our life. Where we are in our lifetime, where we are going, how we interact with people, and what is important to us. I often think about such things while I am walking and I try to use those moments to find motivation and optimism, gratitude and appreciation for the life that I have. </p>
<p>One of the longest walks I have taken in a long time wasn't all that great of a distance, but it was still an extremely difficult hike and required a very long drive to get there. </p>
<p>It was only about fifty yards from where I had parked my car to a cluster of pine trees that provided a lovely shaded spot to look over a creek valley in South Dakota. I was just south of the Rose Bud Reservation, at a place that was special to my brother Jeff. He had left this world the week before, and I had told him before he died that I would visit his friend Charlie and stop by this very place. </p>
<p>Jeff was a remarkable individual. He was an immensely talented musician, a gifted recording engineer, and a very compassionate person. He had touched the lives of tens of thousands of people, not only through his music but through his humanitarian actions and just being a good friend to so many people. </p>
<p>He was an extremely popular musician in Southwestern Ohio and had performed in a host of bands ranging from heavy metal and blues, to power pop, to his last and longest endeavor, an acoustic duo called Higgins Madewell. He and his musical partner Erin Higgins performed what they called “hippie-country” music. They had performed a few times in GOL at the Old Fire House Winery, and Jeff had played with me on numerous occasions at several wineries, clubs, and special events in Northeast Ohio. Of course, I had performed with him many times in and around our hometown, West Milton in SW Ohio. </p>
<p>Now and again, you hear a story about someone just picking up an instrument and playing it, and I can assure you that is exactly what Jeff did with a guitar. I was home from college and playing music with my older brother Bob, when we took a break, Jeff asked if he could see my guitar. He literally picked it up and started playing it. I had never seen anything like that before, and the next day, I bought him a cheap electric guitar. He was 12 or 13. </p>
<p>Much to the chagrin of my parents, in a year or so he was playing with a country rock band at local VFWs. </p>
<p>By the time he was driving, he had developed into a formidable guitarist, and I recognized he was much better than I would ever be. He started exploring and developing the chops to play other musical genres and started to earnestly study great guitarists like Mark Knopfler, Eddie Van Halen, and Stevie Ray Vaughn. It was a treat to watch Jeff play a popular, technical guitar piece. I would often realize that I not only played it wrong but it was beyond my ability to play the song correctly! </p>
<p>We had a lot of fun playing music together, and I will treasure those recollections. </p>
<p>With his ability to listen and hear nuances in music, it was only natural that he would get involved in recording. He developed an impressive commercial-grade studio and for over two decades provided monthly sound beds for syndicated radio stations across the nation. These were often humorist, brief sound clips, but sometimes would be short songs. There was more than one time I heard one of his tracks playing while standing in line at a convenience store. He also did numerous, and sometimes award-winning jingles for a host of businesses in southern Ohio. </p>
<p>Jeff always felt he was blessed with his talent, creativity, family, and friends and was appreciative of how people always seemed to be willing to help him whenever he needed something. He was deeply troubled by the inequities of the world and wanted to do something for people truly in need, so he launched a clothing, toy, and food drive for the natives living on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. For over two decades he marshaled friends and family in his community to collect and send goods to the Lakota Sioux. For the first two years it was a couple of vans full of goods, but for every year after it was a full semi-trailer load. </p>
<p>In the process of doing “Christmas For Rosebud", he met some wonderful people including Charlie Moe. Jeff had stayed in one of Charlie’s cabins several times when he was able to actually make the trip with the truck, or on one of the occasions, he was able to visit during the summer. </p>
<p>While he was in the hospital he had told me that the valley in front of Charlie’s cabin was a place he visualized to find peace and comfort, and I told him I would go there for him. </p>
<p>Jeff was a master at looking at the half-full glass and never seeing it as half empty. One of his doctors joked that he didn’t have a medical history, he had a medical novel. But his medical challenges never prevented him from doing great things. </p>
<p>He had contracted a non-Hodgkins lymphoma when he was 19 years old and due to some unclear complications, lost over 95% of his vision. He saw the world through a couple of random “pin holes” in what otherwise was a black field of vision. And his medical challenges didn’t stop there. He had a bout with histoplasmosis that nearly killed him, and two or three reoccurrences of cancer and these were associated with their chemotherapy regimes which included a bone marrow transplant. He also had a heart valve replacement, and ultimately a bypass surgery which he was unable to recover from. This bypass was an attempt to mitigate heart damage from the radiation therapy he had when he was 19. </p>
<p>How he navigated his performance schedule, how he mastered the incredibly complicated software and equipment associated with recording, and how he motivated a community for twenty-plus years to send semi-trucks full of goods to the Rosebud Reservation could be motivational for all of us. </p>
<p>Years ago I realized that everything between birth and death is a lifetime, but the impacts of a lifetime are subject to how the days of our lives are spent. Although he was so severely challenged at an early age, Jeff inspired me and so many others to embrace the moment and try to make each day count. </p>
<p>I was numb as I made that short walk to the spot where he felt comfort and peace. I stopped to take in the view, say a few words out loud and share another moment with my brother. </p>
<p>And I suppose the reason I am sharing this story is hopefully to encourage myself and any reader to remember that what we all do is not just about how we spend the days of our lives, but how our actions each day touch the lives of others. </p>
<p>Thank you for the motivation and wisdom Jeff </p>
<p>See you on the trail.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/68590812022-01-04T14:35:39-05:002022-01-04T14:35:39-05:00New Resolutions!<p><span class="font_small"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/cf37f42ed5db618feedf5752f7176bc2562ea0f3/original/img-9233.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span>On occasion, someone will ask my advice or insight on a topic they perceive I have successfully addressed in the past. Such was the case when a young fellow recently asked for my thoughts on how he might advance his career.</p>
<p>It is easy to take such inquiries lightly and rattle a few things off that quickly come to mind, and I have certainly done this in the past. On more than one occasion, after a few days, it occurred to me I had done the question, and the questioner, a disservice. </p>
<p>If I had anything close to an epiphany in 2021, it was a realization that going forward in life, I want to work toward making things count. To appreciate and enjoy each moment, but whenever possible, be willing to put the effort into finding the best situations, and to enjoy them. In short, to try and avoid taking simple things for granted but putting the extra effort into making simple things special. </p>
<p><br>In light of the pandemic, I have been really blessed. Like many people I have endured losing several acquaintances and a few good friends, some to Covid, some from other causes. And these losses will leave a hole in the fabric of my life and my network of friends. However, in many regards, for the most part, things have been, shall I dare say it, “mostly good”. </p>
<p><br>I performed about as much as I wanted to in 2021, albeit mostly as a solo, but I had a pretty full dance card. And I am immensely grateful to the wineries and clubs, communities, organizations, and festival organizers that invited me to perform. I even had the opportunity to play some wonderful shows with folks I haven’t played music with in decades. Reconnecting with old friends and making music with some incredible musicians was much more than I would have ever hoped for at the beginning of 2021. </p>
<p><br>I was also able to get my third record released and several written projects published. That being said, with the unrest and anxiety most of us have endured during the past two years, toward the end of the summer I found myself thinking more and more about making “things count”. </p>
<p><br>We all get older, and as we age, we like to aspire to get wiser and smarter, more skillful and more competent, but inevitably, we also begin to feel the effects of time. Suddenly time becomes a commodity. There is a beautiful song by Chris Smithers called “Leave the Light On” where he shares his thoughts on enjoying the moment of each day and the process of aging. </p>
<p><br>Maybe it’s time to leave the light on for me? </p>
<p><br>I am always a bit flattered when someone asks for my advice or guidance and such was the case with this situation. I wanted to take the time to get my thoughts together for this young man. We picked a time and scheduled a long, unhurried call. </p>
<p><br>In the better part of an hour, we covered a lot of ground and I found myself going back to a technique I had picked up and modified from a book by Jeri Goldstein that was written to help musicians manage their careers as a business. I call the process, Planning Backwards, and I have used this in many situations, both in my park career and in my musical endeavors. It can work for an individual, a group, or an agency, and it has a really simple premise. Where do you want to go? </p>
<p> <br>Without going into all of the details, the process involves asking a series of questions that start with: What are your dreams? And then, where do you want to be in twenty years? And if you can identify those objectives, then you should be able to deduce “If I know where I want to be in twenty years, where do I need to be in ten years?” Then applying the same approach for ten years back to five years, a set of five-year goals can be created. And by the time you resolve those questions, it is possible to develop a two and a half year set of objectives, which in the business world might be called a strategic plan, directing you how to take action this year and then next. </p>
<p><br>Going through this process will help develop and set a collection of objectives or resolutions into a larger context. And this gives them more merit and importance. <br>I think lack of context is why New Years Resolutions often fail. Everyone wants to correct something, but how does this effort fit into a bigger ongoing goal? And that is the beauty of this process of planning backward. You pick a destination and then you map the course. </p>
<p><br>As I was talking through this technique with my friend, I was thinking of my 2021 epiphany to “make things count” and it occurred to me, I need to put this into a larger context, and think through what this means, and then develop some steps to make this happen. <br>All journeys start with the first step. So here is to making 2022 a great year, one step at a time. <br>See you on the Trail<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f19b3c75ff21eef74716a7dafd553104449b421f/original/img-9975.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>Steve</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/67203492021-08-18T11:27:25-04:002021-08-18T11:27:25-04:00SMB Just Another Night In The Books!<p>SMB, Another Night In The Books: </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2039936ec7d5bf6a2f46c3b99c7f4f27deac5ce9/original/smb.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>August 15th, I was privileged to perform at the Trolley Stop in Dayton, Ohio, with some dear friends who just happen to be excellent musicians. </p>
<p>This event was sort of a spin-off from the June 27th performance. </p>
<p>I got the idea to do the show in June, knowing that Fred Rice would be driving from Oklahoma to Ohio to see his family. Over the years when Fred would be in the Buckeye State, we would try to get together and play some tunes. Instead of playing in a living room, I believed we could set up in a small venue and open this up to a broader circle of friends and family. </p>
<p>As this idea was developing and I was collecting ideas on how to announce this event, my friend Vance suggested staying away from using “reunion” in any promotions. And Vance was on to something. </p>
<p>While both of these performances were with old friends, playing old familiar songs, in a comfortable and familiar venue, this was not about trying to re-create the past. </p>
<p>Instead, both of these performances were about preparing for the future. I was hoping we could revisiting the good times we have all shared, reconnecting with the spirit of what we have enjoyed, and reaffirm these feelings as still valid and present. </p>
<p>We have all gone through some very trying times in the past few years. For some reason, we have chosen to focus on negativity and engage in divisive rhetoric. </p>
<p>It does not have to be that way. </p>
<p>We can still gather and share some positive energy, without tribalism and animosity. </p>
<p>And maybe the simple act of getting together can contribute to encouraging a foundation for hope and optimism for the future. </p>
<p>That being said, getting together and playing music in public with people you haven’t seen in over 30 years was simply nuts! Don’t get me wrong, it was a blast, but it was nuts! </p>
<p>We were not playing from charts or lyric sheets, and we had no rehearsals. There was a reason all of the songs we were playing we old, they were from a song list from one of the last shows we played together. I did find 9 cassette tapes and after converting them to files, distributed them to “the band” so we could listen to ourselves from decades ago. </p>
<p>Of course, it helps that Bill Baldock, Michael Clutter, and Vance Wissinger are all superlative musicians, and Astrid Socrates is always comfortable and compelling on stage. And even though she hasn't performed in years, I knew she would be great. </p>
<p>But holy smokes, what a trip! I know I will never do anything quite like this again. </p>
<p>But, we did it and seemed to make quite a few people happy in the process, and I am sure we will perform again. </p>
<p>To quote Billdock, “It’s just been a long time between gigs!"</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/67040282021-08-01T19:34:52-04:002021-08-02T08:47:53-04:00Endless connections...<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/6c30a491e75321562dbe81e1feed485e7846de46/original/steve-madewell-band.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpeg" class="size_xl justify_center border_none" alt="" />On Sunday, August 15th, 2021 I will be playing music with a collection of people that are very dear to me. They are remarkable in so many similar yet uniquely different ways. </p>
<p>I suppose playing music can be a mechanical thing. And maybe that happens too often for some players. It is a sad thing when this is the case. I know I have fallen into a pit where I turned my emotions off and was simply there putting in my time. Maybe it was a smokey bar or some joint where ten TVs were on at once, including one behind the stage. No one cared or could care about what the band was playing. </p>
<p>These are crushing moments for a musician and they squarely fit into the broad catch-all category of “paying your dues.” </p>
<p>And there are so many other issues or events that share that category, a flat tire on the way to a show, a double booking or contract dispute, the incidental drunk, or the loud talker with an exceptionally shrill voice. It is a formidable list that goes on and on leaving one to wonder or question “What am I doing this for?” </p>
<p>The converse to these trying times is the other musical moments that are so uplifting and wonderful they nearly can’t be described. </p>
<p>There is a magical feeling of the music leaving your body, and a part of your spirit being part of the sound emanating out into space. It is a journey that is full of exuberance and emotion, with an unknown destination. <br> <br>It is easy for a young person to take these special moments for granted and not realize that they may be as ephemeral as spring wildflowers. There is no guarantee that they won’t vanish and never return. But as a person ages, they often develop a greater sense and appreciation of life and the treasures that enrich it. </p>
<p>The joy that comes from making music can certainly enrich life for the performer and the listener, and to share such an experience with another person is such a special gift. </p>
<p>To go on an emotional trip with a group of people creates a profoundly deep connection. </p>
<p>I went through a brief period of life with a group of people when these profound musical experiences were nearly routine. I have never enjoyed a time quite like this since. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e2b06d6b8cc840a408dbfcd2a1157ef4b684730b/original/steve-and-vance-mac-and-joes.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vance <br>My hometown, long-time friend, Vance Wissinger, and I have been periodically playing music together since 1970. We started with an “epic” high school band called Wissinger’s Palace Magical Band, which covered everything from Chicago to Grand Funk, Joe Cocker to CSN. Then onto a few college bands and beyond. Acoustic bands, power trio’s, horn bands, blues, and country-rock bands plus our eclectic duo performances. We have played together, gone on to individual projects, and then picked up a little further down the road. All the while we have been accumulating a huge collection of experiences and memories. As Vance used to say, years ago what once was all about drugs sex, and rock and roll, evolved to good food, good friends, and good music. </p>
<p>Vance is not only a great bass player but also an incredible musician. He has played with so many other talented players and bands like The Pulse and John Kogge and the Lonesome Strangers. It is always a special treat to play with Vance and we had some great moments at the Trolley Stop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/baa02e148ed86e0ca7ba18afdea5a2558f5ccae9/original/astrid.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p>Astrid <br>I was the second musical act to regularly play at the Trolley, a group called Cotton was first and Dow and Astrid were third. Cotton was a lovely sounding acoustic trio with excellent harmonies and a very approachable selection of songs. I was a bit more diverse with a few howling blues, obscure folk songs, and modified rock tunes. Cotton played Sunday afternoons and I initially played on Saturday nights and then both Friday and Saturday. </p>
<p>Dow and Astrid started playing at the Trolley Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays and they lit the place up. They came in with an entourage of friends and musicians that Dow affectionately called the “Toe-Jammers”. Dow was a remarkable entertainer with a host of catchy, funny tunes and props to go with them. Astrid was at his immediate right, keeping time with an appropriate conga beat, singing perfect harmonies, or giving Dow a break and taking center stage. Astrid always had a comfortable presence and would occasionally grab a guitar and offer attention-grabbing renditions of some very engaging songs. Everyone loved to hear Astrids’ unique contribution to the night. <br> <br>The Trolley was a happening place, and it was a happening time in my life. I had opportunities to play at other clubs with other people. Vance and I started playing weekends with an old high school acquaintance Roy (Hawse) Calhoun, and we created a lifetime of musician stories playing three nights a week for seven months at the Trophy Club in Vandalia before the first Roy Calhoun Band fell apart. </p>
<p>When Vance and I joined up with Roy, Dow and Astrid moved to Wednesday through Saturday at the Trolley. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2ea2c6c66f483ae026182f8d854baf0968da2842/original/bill-balldock.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsInNtYWxsIl1d.jpg" class="size_s justify_right border_none" alt="" />Bill <br>I continued playing at the Trolley, doing gigs on Sunday, Monday, and occasionally Tuesday evenings. It was on a relatively slow weekday night that a friend introduced me to Bill Balldock. He told me Bill was looking for opportunities to sit in with someone so he could develop his fiddle chops. </p>
<p>I was always open to playing with new people and in the first measure, I could tell that while he might be a little uncertain with his fiddle playing, Bill was a fine musician. So Bill started showing up and playing with me. </p>
<p>Bill had a different approach to performing, he was meticulous with his gear and was one of the first acoustic players that I worked with who was committed to getting a true acoustic sound. I several years before I realized that he was a much better guitar player than I would ever be!</p>
<p>Since that night when we first met, Bill has had enjoyed a rich career, performing and touring with a host of musicians. He has been living in and around Nashville where in addition to playing music, has continued to work on stringed instruments and has his own shop! He currently performs with the highly regarded Americana band, Buffalo Wabs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/6ffdfa7dcf25f50c4290a4e449b77dfce3f0ed35/original/smb-mike.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_right border_none" alt="" />Michael <br>I seem to recall meeting Michael Clutter through a mutual friend, Paul North. Paul invited me to go to a picking party at the farmhouse Mike was living at the time. Mike and I immediately hit it off and we knew a bunch of the same songs. We played together at a couple of casual parties and somehow found ourselves performing together. Mike has continued to play across SW Ohio and in the Ohio River Valley. </p>
<p>The Band <br>I’m a little fuzzy on how Mike, Bill, and Vance started playing together, but we were playing a pick-up gig in Yellow Springs and our drummer never showed up. (I found out later he had been in an altercation with a police officer and been “detained”.) Astrid was there that night and she happened to have her congas in the car, so I asked her if she wanted to play. </p>
<p>And that was the first performance of what would become the “Steve Madewell Band”. </p>
<p>What happened that night was very comfortable and we sounded solid enough that it was no problem to get more gigs. However, after playing together for a few months we sounded solid enough that we collectively felt an obligation to take some time off and focus on dialing in arrangements and harmonies. </p>
<p>In the winter of 1986, we took three months off from playing out and simply rehearsed. </p>
<p>Between playing with the Roy Calhoun Band, and my acoustic shows, I was making some serious cash in the early 1980s' but when the first Calhoun band split up, I was scrambling for income. Fortunately was able to get a job with the Greene County Recreation and Parks Department. While the job didn't pay much, a housing option was included and we moved into a brick cottage at the Narrows Reserve in Beaver Creek. </p>
<p>I had been working for the Greene County Park system and living at the Narrows for several years when we took our rehearsal break and it just so happened that an old farmhouse was being converted into a visitor center. My boss allowed us to rehearse there before the building was open to the public. </p>
<p>When we came out of this focused rehearsal period we were like a new band. Our instrumentation was better, our harmonies were on and we had become dear friends. </p>
<p>Our first performance after this break was at the Trolley Stop. </p>
<p>There was a full house that night, which was not unusual, but the room got quiet when we started to play which was remarkable. I had played hundreds of times at the Trolley Stop and never experienced anything quite like that. </p>
<p>After that first performance, I had no trouble getting us booked and we played at several clubs that spring. I was able to record a number of those shows. </p>
<p>In preparing for this upcoming performance, I pulled those tapes out of storage and after 30 plus years 2 of the nine cassettes were not listenable. Of the remaining 7 four had some tape degradation or were marginal mixes, but three played pretty well and I was astounded with how we sounded. <br> <br>Leaving Dayton </p>
<p>I have always cared about the environment and when I got the job with Greene County I was provided with an opportunity to nurture and grow that concern. I felt an obligation to do whatever I could do to change people’s attitudes and appreciation for nature. What started as a commitment to environmental education ultimately developed into a passion for buying and preserving open space and I was determined to leverage whatever skills I had, as best I could, for this cause. </p>
<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/0c6a7b7fe3617e45964f6fc5f674f63410fd82c9/original/ranger-naturalist.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />This commitment propelled me on a career that I could have never imagined. While the band was poised to take off, so was my career in the conservation field. I was offered a job as the Deputy Director of the Geauga Park District in NE Ohio and this was a pretty big deal. That park system had just passed a new levy and had a great revenue stream. It was already one of the ten largest parks systems in the state and was in a growth mode. It was a huge opportunity for me, my family, and also the cause that I was committed to. </p>
<p>It was something I was excited to do and something I had to do, but it was still a crushing reality. The process of sharing this news with Mike, Bill, Vance, and Astrid was mind-numbing and heart-rending. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Our last Regular gig was at Roy Calhoun’s Saloon in Troy, and Mick Montgomery hosted a Bon Voyage show for us at Canal Street. While we had intentions of trying to remain in contact and continue to perform. Vance and Astrid came up to NE Ohio for a few shows with me, and I when down to play at with everyone a community concert with everyone. Of course, this was pre-internet and the distance proved to be too great of a barrier to overcome. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/b8b4698445c173710ff05f29b41df1496a61f374/original/smb-canal-street.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpeg" class="size_xl justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p>Besides my family, these were the friends who came and helped us pack for the move. Bill even rode up to Geauga County and helped us unload. </p>
<p>Bill joined a band that toured the Mid-East and ultimately moved to Nashville. Michael began performing with the Michale Colter Band, Vance played with John Kogge and developed his professional sound company and Astrid performed as a solo artist for a while. </p>
<p>I was blessed with a remarkable career and have been involved with dozens of projects that many people in the conservation field would consider once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I have served as the Director of three of Ohio's largest park systems and contributed to the preservation of thousands of acres of open space and over thirty miles of river frontage. I’ve interacted with influential businessmen and powerful politicians and even so, in review the old recordings of this band I found myself wondering if I made the right decision. </p>
<p>So humbled to play once again with these folks! </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/67039562021-08-01T17:19:43-04:002021-08-01T17:19:43-04:00Old Friends New Beginnings<p>Old Friends New Beginnings </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/356f4fea693110aaf6cc504e13ae415a00646140/original/imagejpeg-1-2.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><br>Sunday I had the pleasure of playing music in a place I have not performed in for at least 30 years. A place where I had played perhaps 200 times, maybe more. And, I was with working with some incredibly talented people. </p>
<p>Which included first and foremost my long-time friend and remarkable bass guitarist, Vance Wissinger. The first time we played together, I was in 8th grade and Vance was a sophomore in high school. And we have been making music ever since. We played in a great high school band Wissinger Palace and several college bands. We both attended Miami University in Oxford where we played music together with some very fine people and some wonderful players. </p>
<p>Fred Rice and Vance were in a band called “Waterfall” along with Pete Garst, Bob Hollister, and Gary Wetzel and after the band dissipated, Fred, Vance, and I formed another Oxford group called “Imagine That” featuring Caroline Quine and Dave Young. </p>
<p>I left Oxford and Imagine That in 1978 and started performing solo at the Brewery in Troy. My first performance at the Trolly Stop in Dayton was late ‘78 or early ‘79. Ultimately, Vance joined me for many gigs and we played there for the next five years or so as a duo or with other guests. Vance and I played there several times before I moved to northeast Ohio with the “Steve Madewell Band” which included Astrid Socrates, Bill Baldock, and Michael Clutter. <br> <br>I moved up to NE Ohio in the mid-80s’ and for several years Vance drove up to play with Al Bonnis and me, or Chris Otto and I, but that is a long drive for a weekend gig, and Vance’s needed to stay home to help his folks as they aged. </p>
<p>Over this forty-year-plus period, whenever Fred was back around we would try and get together to play. In addition to Ohio, Fred lived in Arizona, Hawaii, and Oklahoma, where he currently lives. These get-togethers were always special. </p>
<p>Fred has always sought out new people to play music with and often found some remarkable players in the process. That is how I came to be introduced to Terry Pender back at Miami. Terry, Fred, and I jammed around a few times and I remember being astounded by their talent back then. </p>
<p>Fred and Terry were always talking about another stellar young player by the name of Brian Buckley and I finally got a chance to me him when I was visiting Oxford for a party. <br> <br>The first and only time that Fred, Terry, Brian, and I played together, we did two songs, Old and In The Way, and the Hobo Song. This was at a pickup jam in Oxford in the late spring of 78 or 79. </p>
<p>And that was the last time that the four of us, Fred Terry Brian and I were in the same room, that is, until Sunday afternoon. </p>
<p>The last time Fred was in Ohio was in 2019 and we had met at his mothers' house south of Columbus. I drove down from NE Ohio, Vance drove over from West Milton and Brian came up from Cincinnati and that was the first time I had seen Brian since that jam in Oxford. </p>
<p>We had a great time playing in “mom’s” basement and decided that we would have to do it again. And then we found ourselves in a global pandemic. </p>
<p>With the travel advisories associated with the pandemic, Fred had not seen his Ohio relatives and quite a while and it was a foregone conclusion when he came to see them, we would get together and play. I thought it would be cool to meet up and play in a public space, after all, we have been performing music over all these years, why not share that with people, friends, family, and whomever? </p>
<p>I ran that idea past Fred, Brian, and Vance and they thought would be a lot of fun. So I had the green light to come up with a plan. As Fred began planning this year's trip from his home in Oklahoma to Ohio, I started casting about to find a venue where we could play. </p>
<p>As I was looking for venues I was also trying to find a few dates that could fit into our collective schedules. Brian is often playing out in the greater Cincinnati area, Vance is a busy professional sound engineer, and I have a fairly regular gigging schedule too. Once we found a few dates, the pressure was on to secure a place to play. </p>
<p>I was looking for venues around Columbus or Dayton and through nothing but coincidence, the Trolly Stop floated to the surface. </p>
<p>The owners of the Trolly had found some old pictures of musicians in the basement and didn’t know who was in the photographs. They turned to Jill Witherspoon who managed the club years ago and she immediately recognized most of the performers which included Vance and me. She turned to me to see if I knew any of the others. </p>
<p>These photos were taken in the early 80s’ when the Trolly Stop was having music 7 nights a week. In the late 70’s “Cotton” was playing on Sunday night, I started playing on Saturday nights and then expanded to Friday and Saturday. Within a year, Dow and Astrid began playing Monday through Thursday and the Trolly was “a buzz”. </p>
<p>And ultimately, the discovery of those photos led to the conversation about the Trolly Stop becoming the host venue for the “Old Friends, New Beginnings” show and Jill shared the notion to the owners, Robin and Chris. </p>
<p>I didn’t want our performance to compete with or displace any other musical acts and I didn’t want it to be a late-night gig. As it turned out, the owners thought a Sunday 2:30-5:30 afternoon show would be great. </p>
<p>Brian, Fred, Vance, and I were all excited about the idea of playing together in a setting that was open to the public, and we started sharing ideas for a possible song list. On one of my trips to Dayton this spring, Brian, Vance, and I were able to get together and run through a few tunes. </p>
<p>Once the general details had been worked out with the club, I shared a post on Instagram and Facebook. On a whim, Brian emailed it to Terry Pender with a “too bad you can’t make it” note. As it turned out, Terry who lives in New York was in the process of planning a trip to Ohio and was able to shuffle his schedule to make this date. </p>
<p>And that was how it came to pass that Terry and I saw each other for the first time in decades. <br> <br>On Sunday, June 27th at 2:30 we started playing to a nearly full house, Brian, Fred, Terry, Vance, and I. And we played none stop for an hour and fifteen minutes, took a twenty-minute intermission, and played for another hour. <br> <br>We all had friends from high school, friends from college, work friends, social friends, family, and people who just showed up. I heard many comments on the timeless connection that seemed readily apparent between the five of us as we played. When we returned from our intermission we were joined by Gary Wetzel who had driven up from Alabama just for this show! </p>
<p>It is hard to verbalize the feelings that come with an experience like this, but it did reaffirm several things. First of all, music can create an incredible and seemingly timeless bond between players. Secondly, an audience responds to the emotion of the performers, and the performers in turn are fueled by this response and this is nearly intoxicating. Yesterday was a very emotional performance! And when that emotion is joyful, the entire experience is a wonderfully uplifting event. </p>
<p>Yesterday was a joyful day for a lot of people and validated why I have continued to perform music. Despite work schedules, contract issues, equipment glitches, bad venues, off nights, and tough crowds when it comes together like it all did this week, all the hard times are forgotten. <br>It feels good to make people happy. </p>
<p>It is good to be happy.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/65941702021-04-04T19:25:11-04:002021-04-04T19:25:11-04:00Growing Up<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/1a6989e42bff465efbfed9104d18f006c5bdfe5d/original/big-boys.png/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.png" class="size_l justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p>Pedestrian Ramblings 4/4 <br>Growing Up <br>The collective “we” tend to start asking youngsters at a very early age “What do you want to be when you grow up“? As innocent as that question is there is an implication that we need to aspire to become someone beyond where we are or do something of consequence and lasting value. </p>
<p>I suppose this question continues to haunt some free-spirited folks throughout their life. </p>
<p>My friend Mark Freeman and I have taken a few walks and talks around Chapin Forest recently and I starting thinking about the essence of our conversations when I saw these giant chairs outside of the ski center. We were talking about what we want to be when we grow up! </p>
<p>Mark happens to be one of my favorite Ohio songwriters and we have been comparing notes about writing songs, playing, performing, and recording music. </p>
<p>Just like so many other things in our lifetime, there have been many changes in the business of making music. From the glitz and glamour of the global and national recording industry, right down to the open mic nights on the local level, new technology has impacted how we play, perform, record, and listen to music. And this will continue to evolve. Mark and I have been talking about how to set a course to follow and how to navigate to where we would like to take our music. </p>
<p>Neither of us is spring chickens and often find ourselves in a quandary about certain elements of the music business. In our conversations, we consistently avoid the question: “Why are we writing songs and playing music?” I could just imagine some adult from my past overhearing our conversations and saying: “You two just need to grow up!” </p>
<p>Neither of us has delusions of becoming rich playing and singing our songs, or even paying our bills with the dough we are raking in! That being said getting paid to play is certainly an important affirmation for years of practice and the effort we have invested to refine our craft and performance skills. </p>
<p>Between the two of us, Mark and I know many musicians. There are very few who make a living playing music. Those that do, work very hard and often have multiple projects and music-related income streams. That number dwindles dramatically when filtered by those writing and performing original music. </p>
<p>There is a significant challenge in creating songs that are both musically appealing strong and lyrically strong enough to engage and entertain people. This is not a small task. </p>
<p>Oh of course with an original tune there is the tiny possibility of someone picking up a song for a prominent musician to record, but those are pretty slim odds. And there is the potential for income from digital streaming. After all, if a song gets played 229 times on Spotify the artist gets one dollar, so if your song gets streamed 200,000 you get about 850 bucks! Just sayin’... </p>
<p>With the advances in technology, it is possible to make an acceptable recording in a home studio, so recording has gotten much more accessible and affordable! But there are still significant start-up costs associated with good microphones, a powerful computer, and associated editing and recording software. And the learning curve for the software and recording techniques requires a substantial amount of time. </p>
<p>At the end of the day it still costs about four dollars a unit to “commercially” burn and package a small batch of CDs, and with the explosion of internet streaming, no one is sure if there is a viable market for CDs. Some agents say "CD are like business cards, you have to have them." That is a pretty expensive business card! </p>
<p>When you start doing the math, you want to stop doing the math! </p>
<p>So why do we work so hard at these things that don’t fit into a financially productive model? <br>Is there more to it? </p>
<p>Maybe we just don’t want to grow up, and is there a reward for not “growing up”? </p>
<p>Yes, there is. It comes down to the balance of pursuing and eventually sharing a personal expression, connecting with and enriching the lives of other people, and the recognition that this has value. </p>
<p>On a personal level, there is an indescribable, magical feeling that occurs with the process of finding and arranging the words, that turn an idea into a story, that can somehow be embedded in a melody. When this comes together it's a wonderful experience. And when someone tells you how much a song means to them or how they felt when they first heard it, there is a humbling realization that this is something that is bigger than an individual experience and has to be shared! </p>
<p>Often we are condition to measure success in financial returns, but what a stark world it would be if that matrix was our only driver! How many elements of our lives are enriched by doing things that have limited or negative financial returns? How much joy do these efforts produce for ourselves and others? </p>
<p>This phenomenon isn’t limited to musicians but to all artisans and crafters who work hard at what they do. We make things for the joy of self-expression and we share or give these things to enrich the lives of others. </p>
<p>So maybe, I just don't want to grow up, and I hope you don't either. </p>
<p>Should you want to check mark out: </p>
<p>https://mfreemanmusic.com/ </p>
<p>See you out ramblin' around</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/64887742020-11-30T17:39:01-05:002020-11-30T17:39:01-05:00Pop A Relative Perspective<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2ec7fff82cb9b31af0a3ffd62d7992935bea0b01/original/unadjustednonraw-thumb-8788.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />The late fall and winter months have always been a very reflective period for me, and 2020 has provided a great deal to reflect on! A global pandemic, a record turn-out for a very contentious presidential election and the ongoing shifts and changes of life, and of course, the changing world around us. <br>Such is the transient nature of things. </p>
<p> <br>It’s been nearly a year since my father passed on. He had just turned 95 and by all accounts, lived a remarkable life. <br>Thinking about him and the issues his generation faced has provided me with a helpful perspective on what we are currently dealing with. We are so fortunate to live in a country where the quality of life is high with relative prosperity. It is easy to lose sight of our blessings in these trying times. I am not making light of the devastating impacts of this pandemic, nor am I diminishing the hardships that so many people are suffering. But I can recall my pop occasionally saying, “Things could be a lot worse!” And he was speaking from experience. </p>
<p>He grew up facing what many would find to be un-imaginable challenges. My grandfather Kelly Madewell died at the onset of the great depression of dust-induced pneumonia. Kelly had sold his share of Madewell Hollow in Tennessee. He auctioned off all of his livestock and farm equipment, bought a new car and a new truck, and headed west with his family. He was enticed by word of opportunities in both the oil fields and expanding grain production in Oklahoma and Kansas. The migration stopped in Elk Heart, Kansas after his oldest son, my uncle Roosevelt, was offered a job working at a grain elevator. My grandfather bought a threshing machine and planned to combine grain by contract. </p>
<p>He used the thresher just one season. That happened to be the year of the big plow up. Ken Burns' documentary The Dust Bowl does a remarkable job telling this story. There was so much grain produced that year, that once silos were filled, it was simply dumped in the streets. </p>
<p>Kelly died after getting caught in a minor dust storm and my grandmother returned to Tennessee with her youngest child and her husband's body. Her remaining children joined her a few months later. Grandma rented a house located at the mouth of the “Madewell Holler” for her and her youngest children. </p>
<p>I recall my uncle telling me the thrashing machine was left sitting in a field. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dad was six when his father died, and he lived through some very difficult times. His older brothers and sisters helped the family working for wages, but as a youngster, his contribution to the family’s well being was often made through hunting small game and fishing. My grandmother would say Clarence could catch a fish in a mud puddle. </p>
<p>When he was twelve a college professor from Tennessee Tech asked dad to take him squirrel hunting. The man paid him for his “guide” services with five Remington Express shotgun shells. Dad used those shells to hunt rabbits or squirrels using his fathers' broken single-shot shotgun. It fell apart whenever it was fired. </p>
<p>He left school after the sixth grade and took his first paying job working with a man to cut dogwood, I presume for making heddles for the textile industry. He told me he was paid fifty cents a day. Later that same year, he moved to Michigan after a family acquaintance arranged for him to take a job working on a dairy farm with a large orchard. At thirteen he was living several hundred miles away from his family. </p>
<p>The amazing saga continued with dad moving from Michigan to Dayton, then back to Tennessee. He joined the Army Air Corps at 18 and served in the China Burma India Theater of WWII. I didn’t know much about that part of WWII until I was in my late thirties. After reading just a few books my admiration of my father changed significantly. It is often referred to as the forgotten chapter of the Second World War. The warfare was brutal and the <br>conditions were abysmal. </p>
<p>In the jungles of Burma, he contracted Malaria and was assigned to “light duty”. During this “downtime” he got the idea to try and catch some fish by dynamiting the Irrawaddy River. Somehow he and a buddy secured some TNT and detonated it in the middle of the river. He said they were amazed at the resulting number of fish floating on the water. They tried to gather them all, but there were just too many. They built and a raft out of fifty-five-gallon fuel drums and used that to collect and tote the fish onto the shore. They harvested enough to have a fish fry for the entire company. </p>
<p>The commanding officer was so impressed with the fresh fish that he wanted to know where it came from. He tracked dad down and asked him what else he could do for the company? Pop wound up getting clearance to hunt local deer for the mess hall and he killed two tigers for a couple of his superior officers. </p>
<p>After the war, he married my mother who was sixteen and they enjoyed 73 years as husband and wife and created, enjoyed, and endured many remarkable chapters in their lifetime. Some of those stories may appear at a later time. </p>
<p>On their last evening together, Pop fixed her dinner, kissed her good night, and told mom he loved her. He died in his sleep. At 95, he had a good life. And considering the challenges of his early years, he earned a peaceful exit from this world. </p>
<p>He shared many of these wonderfully exotic stories with me on the many overnight deer hunting trips we shared. I never recall him saying anything about feeling hopeless. Nor do I never recall him being bitter or resentful about conditions or situations he experienced. He overcame many significant obstacles and challenges with a remarkable work ethic and a great sense of humor. He was generally optimistic and would occasionally say, "well things could be worst"! </p>
<p>He learned early in his life that a person can do all that they can do in the situation that they are in and still choose to have happiness in the moment and faith in the coming day. I was so fortunate to have an active, lucid father for 63 years. </p>
<p>Very few people are as lucky. </p>
<p>It has been a year since his passing, and what a year it has been. Taking in all of the challenges of 2020, I think about what my father lived through. We can, and we will get through these trying times. </p>
<p>When I think about the experiences and challenges that he faced and the life that he lived, he could have been broken and defeated at many points along the way, but he persevered. <br> <br>If there is any lesson from this year perhaps it is to not take anything for granted. Things do and will change. </p>
<p>And if there was a lesson I could share from my fathers' life, it might be to take time to care for and enjoy the good things, fix or discard those things that are broken, but never give up or despair. </p>
<p>There is a great deal to be said for living in the moment, but perhaps a more profound bit of advice would be to embrace and enjoy every moment.</p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/64660912020-10-29T17:48:01-04:002020-10-29T17:56:12-04:00Finding Motivation In The Time Of Covid <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e31c15e68266ddb761aa51ab068091530c0a007c/original/img-3439.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">Interesting Times</span><span class="font_large"> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">October 25, 2020</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are living in an ancient eastern proverb, “May you live interesting times”. To say these are interesting times is perhaps an optimistic way to summarize the current time here on planet earth. From nearly any perspective, everything seems chaotic. What are our societal norms? Is there any single unifying cause in our country, or on the planet today? I’m failing to see it if there is. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">One might think that preserving the function of the natural systems essential for life as we know it would be something people could all get behind, but science is messy and there seems to be little tolerance for anything short of an “absolute truth”. Unfortunately, complex systems with evolving conditions don’t lend themselves to being summed into simple factual statements, so good science is jumbled with bad, or taken out of context and discredited. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We could also consider the noble cause of helping those among us who are less fortunate as an effort we could all support. People with real physical and mental health issues. This seems like a simple, straightforward enough idea. Helping people who, through no fault of their own, inherited genetic conditions or were born into situations that denied them adequate nourishment or a healthy living environment when they were growing up. Conditions that may have resulted in physical or mental need, but somehow the notion of working together to achieve adequate health care for all people has been portrayed as “socialism or an un-necessary entitlement”. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Or maybe resolving the widespread issue of poverty could be a unifying goal. Certainly, the notion of eliminating or minimizing the horrible effects of poverty could be a universal cause that those of us who have been blessed with relative prosperity could embrace? But conditions of poverty are often twisted and associated with “low productivity or laziness or any number of generic labels” toward a collection of individuals who all happen to be living in the same geographic area or maybe are of a different culture. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Unfortunately, I can’t think of a single unifying cause pulling us together as one. Every issue has been politicized. Scientists who have devoted their life work toward measuring and studying natural systems and who are increasingly concerned with indicators and trends that the human race may be heading for some very challenging times are often portrayed as extreme alarmist. Their concerns are sometimes portrayed as an effort to interfere or with or stop economic growth. The health care system in our country is so overwhelmingly complicated that it feels like every individual needs to have a healthcare advocate to navigate through the bureaucracy of insurance and service fees. Environmental, racial or cultural justice is perceived or portrayed as a threat to take wealth and prosperity away from those who have to randomly give to those who have not, as opposed to an effort to invest in people who may simply not have the resources to make a contribution to better themselves or their community. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">These social tensions are not new, and by no way are these three examples of our challenges comprehensive, but from my perspective, it certainly feels like social tensions have escalated over the last few decades. And then along comes Covid 19. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Humanity has seen similar crises before. The Year without Summer in 1815 occurred after half a dozen volcanoes erupted over the course of a few years which resulted in widespread famine and starvation. The average global temperature only dropped a degree or two, but this subtle change was enough to trigger serious disruptions in the growing seasons and local weather conditions. Both had dire consequences on humanity. And of course, going further back a few centuries we had the Bubonic Plague. This killed an estimated 50 million people, which by the way happens to be about the same death toll of the flu pandemic of 1918. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">So we could slightly modify and collectively quote Bernie Taupin’s lines from the famous Elton John song, I’ve (we’ve) Seen That Movie Too. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I’m sure during these past trials and tribulations there were people haranguing their brothers and sisters, and those taking advantage of dire situations for personal gain, and others intentionally or unintentionally spreading bad information. I guess we can classify this behavior as human nature. But somehow, in the midst of these challenging times, people who faced tremendous adversity and suffered extreme loss survived. It had to be horrific during the period of 1815-16 when crops failed with snow and frost during the summer months. It is hard to imagine widespread starvation. Or during the plague when there were no media outlets to offer suggestions or even hope on how to avoid getting sick. Children even danced and sang a little song about the inevitability of dying. Ring around the rosey… </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are in a much better place today to deal with the challenges of Covid. For better or worse we have the capability for multidimensional communication, internet and transportation options, global food distribution networks, and advanced medical systems offering treatment and hope, and yet the situation we are dealing with feels so emotionally fatiguing and demotivating. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">There are many days all I feel compelled to do is go from one obvious simple or straightforward task to the next. Or I may call an older friend just to check in with them making an assumption that they might like the conversation and this might add joy to their day. And while these activities are all right, I suspect like many people, I need to feel like I am working to improve a future condition or contributing to a bigger project. With the weight of so much uncertainty, and so much societal tension this simple objective is difficult to attain. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I am so fortunate and blessed to live in a place where I can walk outside, or simply look out a window and be struck with the beauty of what I behold. I can also be distracted with any one of the dozens and dozens of uncompleted projects around the house. I can putter about until I want to move on to another distraction or keep at it until I get a sense of simple accomplishment. I could journal about such a day to day existence and create a sense of a bigger totality, ie the pieces/parts of my life adding up to a bigger sum, but that would be a very insular perspective and I have always needed an element of external engagement. So I digress from societal tension to personal tension. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As I look around, or rather, I cruise around social media outlets and the internet I see some remarkable folks, some are friends, others I don’t know or maybe never met, who are marching right along with their lives, continuing to work toward making the wheels of commerce spin, providing services or creating and sharing art and just being engaged. And their actions are indeed motivational. But over the past few weeks, I have found great motivation from personal interactions. Several people have asked me: “When will your new recording be done or if they are still on my mailing list, or if I have stopped doing email updates? Folks who have asked me to make sure I let them know when I will be doing another Live Stream?” These simple inquires mean so much to me as they impart a value to the esoteric or abstract things I do. Writing and singing songs is pretty abstract. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Being perfectly honest, if I come up with a solid lyrical phrase or unique musical twist, it does bring about a certain personal joy, but it is nothing like the reward that comes from providing or stimulating an emotion in others. That is a remarkable experience. It is such a profound thing that I have on occasion felt like nothing I have ever done had been more significant than turning a person's day around or helping them through a challenge just by sharing a song. I simply can’t describe how profound that feels. But it is such an ephemeral experience and for performers, that experience has been eliminated or drastically modified. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I believe the desire to give is as strong as the desire to take and there is a return on the choice of our actions. We are collectively at a time when the need to give maybe much more important than the need to take. Let me express my gratitude to those of you who have helped me re-affirm this truth and reminding me that what I try to give does indeed have value beyond any joy I may have in the making of stories or songs. Your support is uplifting and motivating encouraging me to offer my simple efforts to those who might enjoy them.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Thank You</span></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/86d125df25afb4be54e189c94ca41f4dcb3bfa05/original/three-fall-pics.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033882019-10-22T20:00:00-04:002020-09-09T04:24:38-04:00My Aim Is True
<h1><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/c25ac24ce199f1b57ee428909765ac9725180cfe/original/img-1093.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="AM Picture" height="450" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></h1>
<h1><span style="background-color:#339966; color:#339966"><span style="background-color:#ffffff">My Aim Is True</span></span></h1>
<h2><span style="color:#ff0000">Funny how the recollection of a song can trigger so many memories and emotions!</span></h2>
<div>
<p class="p1">So for some reason, as I was padding out to the freezer this morning to get some bread, I found myself singing the beautiful Elvis Costello song, “My Aim Is True”. In addition to immersing myself in the lovely melody and the haunting storyline, I began to stroll down a wonderful path of emotional recollection. There are many songs on that album that are simply great and after I exhausted my lyrical recall for the title song, I moved on to “Watching The Detectives” and then to “All the Angels Want To Wear My Red Shoes”.</p>
<p class="p1">I remember playing that song one night with the Rory Calhoun Band at a happening kinda place north of Dayton called McNasty’s. A dear friend came strolling in wearing red shoes! McNasty’s was a big party barn and the RCB was a big party band. That sort of coincidence is certainly enough to cement a feeling of cosmic connection!</p>
<p class="p1">Rory just loved to sing the rowdy rocker “Mystery Dance’ off of that recording too.</p>
<p class="p1">It's a wonderful album that still holds up well! If you aren't familiar with it, this is a classic recording:</p>
<p class="p1"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Aim_Is_True" data-imported="1">My Aim Is True</a></p>
<p class="p2">As I continued the process of making breakfast, I began to reminisce about where I was geographically and in my life when I first heard the song “My Aim Is True” and that amazing album. MJ and I were living in Oxford and I had just started working at a Horizon Records. This was the first job I ever had that just “wasn’t the right fit”. I’m sure the owners wanted someone with an effervescent personality as opposed to a brooding philosophical folk rocker, and I lasted one, maybe two weeks. Yep, I was "let go", fired from a record store! But as I was leaving, I took advantage of my employee discount and bought a couple of records. I got EC’s Slow Hand and was torn between this new Elvis Costello recording or the Pete Townsend/Ronnie Land album “Rough Mix”. I took Elvis home. </p>
<h2 class="p3">Music is emotion</h2>
<p class="p1">My old friend Cincinnati Slim, says “The Blues Is the Truth” as it is a genre of music that has transcended many cultures and is used to celebrate all elements of the human condition. Slim is great BTW and do yourself a favor and check him out! He is the real deal... He is such a great player that I wouldn't get on stage with him when he was playing with the Head Hunters. I didn't believe I could add anything to what they were doing. And Slim is right and blues are a basic expression of true emotion. </p>
<p class="p1"><a href="https://cincinnatislim.com/" data-imported="1">cincinnatislim</a></p>
<p class="p1">But there are other forms of music that are true too. A few weeks ago another friend dear friend Wes Wertz shared that years ago how when his daughter Lauren was little she called classical music, “Picture Music” because even though it had no words, it created images in her mind. How beautiful!</p>
<p class="p1">This morning for some reason, I enjoyed a little spontaneous outburst of a song I first heard over forty years ago and found myself floating down an emotional stream full of beautiful recollections. Music has a magical ability to trigger those emotional reactions and recollections and these experiences certainly enrich my life.</p>
<p class="p1">Last night I did a formal presentation on one facet of conservation efforts in Ohio. I was invited to sing a song or two at the end of the program and I played “Wound Too Tight”. I introduced the song in the context of the importance of nature and out of door experiences in reducing stress. I followed that with “Rivers and Trails” offering the observation that the way to overcome the emotional fatigue many outdoor and nature enthusiasts suffer due to the endless onslaught of environmental degradation is to celebrate the collective efforts and successes of those working locally, regionally, nationally and across the planet to make the world a better place. </p>
<p class="p1">The music made the program so much better. The audience immediately became more interactive and engaged. As I was packing up a lady came to me and want to tell me how my songs resonated with her. She shared how her spouse had left her a few years ago and told me that she turned to and embraced nature. Every day regardless of weather or schedule, she went on a walk in the local Metropark and this helped her with her emotional recovery. It was so sweet of her to share that and encourage me to continue to do what I do. </p>
<p class="p1">I have been remarkably blessed that both nature and music have been significant factors in my life and I find myself in the unique position of being able to promote the attributes of both. I suppose it is something I need to keep doing. </p>
<p class="p1">This week I will be performing at four showcases at the Folk Alliance Midwest Region conference in Grand Rapids this week. I can only hope that "my aim is true" with song selection and performance. </p>
</div>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033872019-10-03T20:00:00-04:002019-10-04T15:07:43-04:00The Art of Nature
<p>In 1976 I had a summer job at Brukner Nature Center outside of Troy, Ohio. I was hired to supervise, babysit if you will, the children of Hispanic migrant workers. The nature center had received a grant to provide childcare for these kids while their parents picked fruit and vegetables. It was my understanding the existing staff really didn't want to deal with the additional workload and there was a scramble to get someone to specifically deal with these kids. So the nature center asked and received enough additional money to hire someone for the summer. My high school friend, Annette Miller's sister Lynn, was administering the grant program and told Annette about the position, and Annette told me about it. I got what proved to be a life-altering job.</p>
<p>There was an educator I think his name was Doug Saul, who worked there who had set up a training program for a group of volunteers. He gave me one of the packets he had assembled for them. He called it his "instant naturalist" file. It was loaded with a collection of brochures and publications from the Ohio Department of Natural Resources like Birds of Ohio, Bushes and Shrubs of Ohio, a collection of basic information on local natural resources. </p>
<p>I had a deep interest in alternative approaches to education because I had become very disenfranchised from the educational process in high school. I absorbed this information and decided I would try to educate these children about what was at the nature center and why it was important. This was a noble cause and I was young and very motivated to make a difference, incredibly naive and basically unflappable. </p>
<p>I vaguely recall the first day that the two school buses lumbered around the curve in the drive, stopped in front of the nature center and offloaded a good-sized herd of children. I soon discovered that many didn't speak English. Fortunately, a boy that seemed to be 9 or 10 years old started translating whatever I said for the group, and it was off to the races.</p>
<p>I had a great time that summer and changed my educational focus when I returned to college that fall. This proved to be my first job in the conservation field. And I had by many people's standards, a remarkable career, working for four Ohio park districts. I was the director of three of those systems! </p>
<p>I was extremely honored to be the featured artist for 2019 at Brukner's annual "The Art of Nature" fund-raising event.</p>
<p>The Executive Director, Deb Oexmann, asked if I could talk about what inspired me and inspired my songwriting. It seemed to me that I should bring some representation of some of the park developments that were the result of my involvement, or that had I played some sort of significant role in. I assembled a half a dozen 8x10 photo collages of these projects and mounted them on foam-core to sit out during the mix and mingle period. Below is one representing Howard Marsh. My contribution to the project was the insistence that we include trails and other amenities enhancing year around public access.</p>
<p>I thought these photos would be good conversation starters.</p>
<p>An old friend and remarkable photographer, Marlon Carr had recently built a Youtube video around my song, Rivers and Trials and I asked Marlon if he would like to show this while I was performing. And he agreed! </p>
<p>What I lovely way to say thank you to a place that provided what proved to be a life-altering experience. </p>
<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/55a2461cafb1bab0413762eb9800bc0d4002ee82/original/howard-marsh.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDkyNyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Howard Marsh Collage" height="927" width="600" /></p>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033862019-09-23T20:00:00-04:002019-09-25T00:05:57-04:00Don't Try and Knock Off A Bank In Coffeyville
<div style="text-align: center;"> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/062b308d3a9659346450cb2b73c3da3f90544754/original/bank.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTAweDY2NyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="667" width="500" />
</div>
<div>Coffeyville Community College Humanities Project</div>
<div>Fall 2019</div>
<div></div>
<div>During the process of self-evaluation I decided this year I would get involved with more professional music organizations, so this spring I joined Folk Alliance. This is an international organization and I attended one of their conferences several years ago. It was held in Cleveland and was a great experience and this seemed like a good organization to plug into. The Midwest region of the Folk Alliance is called FARM and they have an annual conference in October so I signed up. In short order, I started getting notices about performing at showcases at the conference, internet radio programs looking for new folk material and other opportunities. One notice caught her my eye, a call for proposals from Artists of Note to perform for the Coffeyville Community College Humanities Project. Over the years I had heard about this and know a few folks who have performed there. I responded to the email and requested additional information. The program has been going on for a number of years and is a really interesting idea. Coffeyville is a fairly rural community and this program provides an opportunity to a couple of dozen artists to perform for the college, and while they have you in town, to do another dozen shows or so for several community centers, assisted living facilities and the local high school.</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>I thought this was a beautiful program idea and put together a proposal for a musical program based around nature, the identity of place and community. Joann from Artists of Note immediately got back to me and we started discussing the time slots and my availability. While Joann was evaluating my bio, she discovered that I was a fly fisher and asked if I could incorporate fly fishing into the program? I told her that the Rivers and Trails CD was predominantly about fly fishing and I certainly could do that, but due to my existing commitments, I could only perform the second week of September. And if we were to put something together, I would have to leave early Sunday and drive all day to get there in time for the first performance. Long story short, within a few days I received a nice packet of information in the mail, including a contract, and I started working on a presentation.</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>Madewell Music and The Dive Kings played at the Ridgewood Tavern in Concord on Sept 7th and at 6:30 AM on the 8th I started off on what would prove to be a pretty uneventful drive. Google maps indicated that it would be a 14 hour ride so allowing for the change in time zones I figured I could get there around 7:30 in the evening. I hit very little construction and had pretty light traffic for the entire trip. I cruised into the Regal Inn right at 7:30!</div>
<div> </div>
<div>The hotel was an independent, privately-owned business that was one of the suggested housing options listed in the information I had received earlier. When I called for a reservation, the man on the phone told me, he would have a room for me whenever I arrived, that he was the owner and he lived there. I asked him if he needed a credit card number for the reservation and he said, “No you have a room reserved sir.” And I thought, “Something to be said for small towns”. He was just as pleasant in person and asked if I was a musician. He said many of the artists stay there and he had a ground floor room with an extra-large parking spot so I could easily haul instruments and equipment! He was also very proud to tell me that there were sticky buns and coffee available every morning until 9:00. </div>
<div> </div>
<div></div>
<div>Joann had done a pretty good job explaining that some of the audiences would be small and judging from the names on the performance roster I had an idea what the facilities would be like. I had also emailed my old friend Andy Cohen, who has played Coffeyville several times requesting information about the program. Andy was very supportive and offered a number of helpful suggestions. I put together a program that I felt would allow me to talk about the stress of everyday life and how spending time outside could mitigate anxiety, how we all spend too much time staring at screens and how kids don’t play in the out of doors. I folded some information published by the Harvard Medical Association on the meditative effects of fly fishing. </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>My first performance was at the Coffeyville Meal Site and I had about 18-20 folks. They were attentive, interactive and enjoyable to play for. I would say they were all over 50 with a half a dozen ladies in the group. I had worked up a setlist which started with “Wound Too Tight” which provided a platform to talk between songs about the challenges of everyday life, and how being outdoors could help mitigate some of those challenges. I slipped in Taj Mahal’s “Fishin Blues” and talked about going fishing with my dad as a youngster, how I got involved with fly fishing and how that is an activity I still pursue. I had brought some gear including a short fly rod, and took a short break in the middle of the set to go over the what makes fly fishing different from other types of fishing and did a simple casting demonstration. The set continued with a half dozen additional songs tying history. After I finished, the ladies in charge of the operation invited me to have lunch with everyone, which I did, and I was feeling pretty good about the first performance. One down 13 to go.</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>With a few hours to kill, no pun intended, and you’ll see why in a few more lines, I thought I should check out the Dalton Museum. After all, as I found out from trying to get to know a little something about Coffeyville, it is famous as the town where the Dalton gang got shot up. I had noticed when I pulled in to the Meal Site that I drove right by the museum. So I pitched my stuff in the car and walked over to check it out. So many times I have found small museums like this have very limited hours so I was happy, and a bit surprised to find that it was open! The door opened into a foyer of sorts, with a large diorama of a late 1800’s “western cowtown” city street. The entrance door was another few feet further down a wooden boardwalk. I was immediately greeted as I walked through the door, by an enthusiastic although apologetic lady, who told me I was welcome to come in, unfortunately, most of the exhibits were packed up. They were in the process of moving to another building across the street. We had a pleasant chat as I strolled along with a long glass case filled with commemorative Colt revolvers. All were beautiful guns, named after western figures or events, with pearl, ivory or engraved handles. Somewhere stainless steel and others were deeply blued or nickel silver. She said all of the Dolton’s guns were put away pending the move and she didn’t mind because it saved her the trouble of getting them out and locking them back up every day. She said I might like to watch a very good video that lasted about 45 minutes that she was just getting ready to start. She was right, it was informative and very well done. It was produced by, or for the History Channel. The video was one of those dramatic recreations with the cut-a-ways to a collection of historical scholars, who added narrative based on their research and understanding of the time or event. It’s a great western story that touches on the conversion of a cattle town to a farm community, the conflict between lawmen and outlaws, and some town folk coming together in a time of crisis. Evidently Bob Dalton had come up with a plan to simultaneously knock off two banks that were right across the street from each other. The execution was complicated due to road construction. The hitching post downtown was temporarily out of service forcing the Daltons to tie their horses up in an alley a hundred yards or so further away from the banks. Long story short, in spite of their fake beards, the Daltons were recognized by one of the shop owners and he alerted several other people in town. The owner of the local hardware store started passing out guns and ammunition and when the outlaws tried to make their getaway, there were several armed men waiting for them. There was a 12-minute shootout resulting in four townspeople getting killed as well as four of the five bank robbers. </div>
<div></div>
<div> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/baa49cbc70c14592b72b5cc57713246c6d3de554/original/town-hero.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MTAweDEyMSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="121" width="100" /> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/09daccf5022e418ebe95d296042aeed9784cb8c1/original/dalton.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6OTB4MTIwIl0%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="120" width="90" /></div>
<div></div>
<div>
After watching the video, I walked outside to check out the scene of the crime. One of the banks, the alley, and the hardware store are still there. The Chamber of commerce is currently located in the remaining bank and Hisham’s Hardware is part of the True Value franchise. I have a thing for old hardware stores and decided I had to stop in Hisham’s. I mentioned to the two clerks that I just left the museum and the fellow started talking about how some people wanted to talk away our history, clearly talking about the controversy surrounding the confederate statues. I wasn’t about to engage in that conversation but I thought it was more than a little ironic that there is a very nice bronze plague where each of the townsmen died, and a blue “chalk” body outline where each of the outlaws fell.
</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>I had two more performances scheduled for the afternoon, one at a very nice apartment complex and the other at an assisted living facility. I took the time to drive around town and get to know my way around town, including checking out some of the other performance locations. There was the downtown historic district, a number of renovated as well as closed storefronts, the community college campus, a couple of strip developments, the box store shopping complex right outside of town, a couple historical agricultural and manufacturing business centers, and the refinery. The commercial strip reminded me of the James McMurtry song, “I’m Not From Here”. The community college and the legacy of the shoot out are the things that make Coffeyville unique. And it also seemed to me that Coffeyville has quite a few churches and quite a few liquor stores!</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>The remaining performances were very pleasant, and I had a wonderful conversation with a woman who used to fly fish with her husband in South Dakota. The last presentation of the day was done at 4:00 so I intended to explore the countryside. I told one of the fellows in my last audience I want to do, and he said “Well, if you don’t get around to it, you won’t be missing much. Lotta farmland out there.” Which of course I already knew. The landscape actually reminded me of southwestern Ohio when I was a kid. Some rolling hills, and in addition to the row crops, there was a lot of hay and pasture land, only the fields were bigger and there were prairie relics alongside the roads. Tom Paxton wrote a song about the Verdigris River which flows by Coffeyville, or should I say, the town was built alongside the Verdigris. There are large flood control dikes alongside the river and consequently, the down-cutting of the waterway is very noticeable. Even so, the community has experienced several serious floods in the past15 years. I thought about going fishing but opted not to. The thoughts of navigating down the dike and the hassle of getting a license were enough of a deterrent. In retrospect, I can see it is those small barriers that contribute to the decline of hunting and fishing licenses. </div>
<div></div>
<div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/39188a71d927b383da615aafa12d6011fa68a8b0/original/verdigris.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></div>
<div></div>
<div>Tuesday morning was the performance in the college theater. I have spent considerable time thinking about crafting a message to encourage people to get out of doors and how to incorporate that into my performance. I realized that one challenge I needed to overcome was that some of the older folks weren’t able to get out of doors, so I had developed an idea to modify my delivery for the senior programs to talk about their childhood experiences as compared to the way their grandkids are growing up. After doing three on Monday this seemed to be working! The college presentation was going to be full-on: get outside, find a life long outdoor activity, this is important to help you cope with the stress of day to day living and fly fishing is a great activity to help you do both. And with a little modification, this was the same message I would have for the high school students. So I was anxious to try this out! </div>
<div></div>
<div>
In addition to students from the theater and humanities programs, there were quite a few folks that weren't affiliated with the college. I arrived 45 minutes before showtime to get a soundcheck and everything dialed in. I walked into the theater and introduced myself to Ginni Phillips, the Humanities Project Coordinator and Ryan Mahanah, the Director of the Theater Department. I was immediately asked if I played fantasy football! And there was a healthy conversation going on about the blowout between the Titans and the Browns! Was I a Pat’s Fan, Did I buy into the Browns hype... Evidently Coffeyville is far enough away from any major sports teams that people feel free to align themselves to teams of their choosing! And later in the week, I came across a shrine to the Pittsburg Steelers. What can you say? Football in America!
</div>
<div></div>
<div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/b4d4cc078d3dcce328aa69c5389e045e9014b842/original/steelers.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6Njh4OTAiXQ%3D%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="90" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="68" /></div>
<div></div>
<div>I was excited to talk with Ginni and very interested in finding out more about the structure of the program how it was funded and who’s idea it was. She told me she had only been in this position for a few years and really didn’t have much history to share, and that Joann from Artist of Note would probably know more about how the series is funded and when it started. It is a great idea and could be a wonderful program for other communities to emulate.</div>
<div></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/008aae9c639582e93f1fd6cfab9573f5754eb29a/original/theater.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTkzeDM0OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="349" width="593" /></div>
<div></div>
<div>It is a nice theater and Ryan was very accommodating in spite of having a cast on his foot. He set me up with a guitar mic and a headset so I could walk around during my fly casting demo. Just as an aside, whenever I do a show wearing a headset mic, I am a nervous wreck about what might come out of my mouth! People who know me, know I have the tendency to mutter all sorts of colorful statements under my breath, and of course, with a headset, it is all out there! I don’t think I embarrassed myself this time and had a comfortable performance for 60-80 people! I packed up and headed off to performances, 5, 6 & 7. </div>
<div></div>
<div>
The next two performances were for senior centers and the final one was a facility that I assume was for early Alzheimer’s or dementia patients, but I am not sure. At this point wanted to make every effort to make some connection with these folks and I started to modify my setlist and slip an occasional cover or traditional song in there that hopefully, the residence would recognize. It worked wonderfully. I mean as much as it is such a major reward to touch someone with an original song, the objective for a performance like this is to bring a little joy into someone’s life. By the time I was done, I was indeed done. I felt like I had driven 14 hours and played 7 shows in three days!
</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>I haven’t spent that much time in Kansas, but it seems that the majority of the time that I have been there it has been hot. And this trip was no exception. Every day, the sky was bright blue and the sunshine was relentless. I was a little surprised with the lush the vegetation but after a few conversations I was told this has been a wet year for SE Kansas, and folks were complaining about humidity and allergies. I had never been in this part of Kansas before, but have a bit of a familial tie to the area. Following the Kansas Oklahoma border due west, in the southwest corner of the state is a little town, Elkhart. That is where my grandfather had moved his family right before the dust bowl began. He sold his interest in the family farm in Tennessee and moved out to the Oklahoma/Kansas border. He bought a threshing machine and intended to do contract combining. Ken Burns’ documentary drama “The Dust Bowl”, tells the history of the “big plow up”. My grandfather used his machine one year and there was so much surplus grain there was no market nor storage. He contracted dust induced pneumonia the next year and died. My grandmother came back to Tennessee with nothing. Her older children went to work, my father who was 6 fished and hunted for food, and this segued into how I was brought up fishing. I shared my connection to Kansas with a few of my audiences and that elicited a few greats stories in return. </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>There were three performances scheduled for Wednesday, two at apartment complexes and one assisted living facility which was for small audiences. I was having lovely conversations at each stop, one lady told me about her and her husband traveling the country in an Airstream and how her daughter is still using it. Some of them were singing along with the occasional cover song, and they all seemed to enjoy my short fly casting demo. By this time I had a pretty good delivery worked out but tomorrow I would be delivering five performances for high school students.</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>The Caney Valley High School is about 20 miles west of Coffeyville. I drove out Wednesday afternoon so I would know where the school was and how long it would take me. My first class was at 8:05 in the morning. On the way back into town I passed a small roadside shop selling produce and pastry. MJ had given me a specific request to pick up a watermelon if I could. Sure enough, I saw a pile of melons on a wagon under an umbrella so I slammed on the brakes, backed up and pulled in. There was a man sitting at a desk inside the small building. He had a headset on and was sitting behind a computer screen with various views outside and inside his stand. I asked him if the melons were any good and he told me they were the best melons in the nation. He drove all the way to Missouri to get them from the Mennonites this year because for some reason the local Amish didn’t plant them. They were large, stripe-less, dark green, seedless watermelons. He went on to tell me that they were so sweet that they would shock a diabetic. One of his friends told him she couldn’t eat them or she would have a reaction and that one of his neighbors had to go to the hospital after eating one of those melons. I told him a trucker once told me after an all-night party that watermelons were hangover medicine. Simple sugar, water, electrolytes and enough fiber to keep from sloshing around in your stomach. He said he never heard that but it was good to know. He had given up drinking because he couldn’t stand the way he felt the day after and would have to remember that just encase some attractive lady should happen to proposition him as that was about the only way he would ever get drunk again. And he added at his age, that was a highly unlikely proposition. </div>
<div></div>
<div>
I asked how much and he said $11. I told him I would take one, and he said I had just made my first mistake of the day. He went on to tell me that people do it all the time with tomatoes. They get home and after the last bite is gone they realize they should have bought more. So I asked if he would take $20 for two and he answered he would do that all day long. So I went out to pick out two, under surveillance I might add, and when I picked up the first one I darn near jumped out of my shoes when a cat hissed at me. It was laying behind the stack of melons and wasn’t at all pleased that I was disrupting its afternoon siesta. It was a memorable stop.
</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>The night before when I was driving around, I came across a really interesting bridge and I thought it might make a good picture. After dinner, I retraced my wonderings and pulled over to see what I could do. It was 92 degrees and about 6:30. I had never seen a concrete bridge quite like this and with a little bit of trial and error, I figured that I could get an interesting selfie. At least I would entertain myself with that notion! Between the traffic, trying to find the right angle and getting my phone propped up I had a heck of a time. </div>
<div> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/106c0a8cff42112d5748b651acbef9a039887c35/original/cropped-edited-bridge.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzAweDIzOCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="238" width="300" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"> </div>
<div>The next morning I was standing in front of a group of high school students at 10 minutes after eight in the morning, and started off with Chris Stapleton’s “Where Rainbows Never Die”. I figured that the opening line my be a good dialog starter: “I’m an old man I can’t do nothin’. Young folks, they don’t pay me any mind”. And that is the way I kicked off my series of performances for the Caney Valley High School Juniors and Seniors. Their mascot is the Bull Pups, and the logo incidentally looked just like my high school mascot 45 years ago! </div>
<div></div>
<div>After wrapping up with the school, I had one more community center to do. I noticed another watermelon stand with stripped melons and thought “What the heck!” and bought one from an old man in a cowboy hat who was missing about half his right hand. I figured there was a good story behind that too but I didn’t have the time to find out. I did my last show and drove east out of Caney, back to Coffeyville and on toward Ohio. There were some ominous looking clouds out to the west and I thought with a little luck I could keep ahead of the storm. </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>I was thinking that I could probably make St Louis by 10:30 and depending on how I felt, get a room or just keep driving. I am certainly not averse to pulling over at a rest area and sleeping a couple of hours and have done that many times. But I found a Sirius radio station, Deep Cuts, that was keeping me entertained. The program structure is all B side tunes and it is really amazing how many very good musicians have recorded some really bad songs. There was one song by Pink Floyd that stood out because it was for all intent and purpose U2’s sound. The song was lame but it sounded just like the Edge’s guitar work. I was also entertained by the billboards coming into Uranus, Missouri. At least some folks in the area have decided to own the unique name of their community. The first sign that caught my eye was advertising one of the newest boutique sporting trends in the country, ax throwing. “Stop by the Axe Hole In Uranus, Missouri. And then there was a billboard that proudly claimed the best fudge comes from Uranus! I’m not making this stuff up. </div>
<div> </div>
<div>I was wide awake driving through St Louis and decided I would just keep driving. If I got tired I intended to catch a few Zzzz at a rest stop. I was hitting some large stretches of construction, but traffic was really light, and moving right along, and I thought, better to deal with this tonight than fight with stopped traffic tomorrow. The first goal was St Louis, then the Illinois state line, then the Indiana state line, then Indianapolis, and by that time I knew I could make my folks house in Dayton. Of course, I would be getting there before sunrise so I would still wind up sleeping in the car. </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>At 5:15 I was getting a bacon egg and cheese biscuit at the McDonalds on St Rt 48 just south of Interstate 70. At 5:30 I was trying to see just how comfortable I could get in the reclined front seat of the CRV. I woke up and my watch said 8:30. The folks normally don't get up before 9:00 so I thought I would go sit on the back porch. I took my phone with me and started to text MJ to let her know my whereabouts when I realized it was 9:30! I forgot about the time zone change I had driven through. I had slept for 4 hours! My pop answered the phone when I called and I told him I was standing by the back door and he said he probably ought to let me in. </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>The experience of spending a few hours playing music and entertaining a large array of seniors over the past few days really made me appreciate how remarkably well my folks were doing. my mother will be 90 her next birthday and my father is 95. They are living independently and much to our chagrin are still driving. Their back yard is an explosion of colors from all of the flowers mom plants and dad has random plantings of green beans, tomatoes, and cucumbers. </div>
<div> </div>
<div>
I spent the morning just hanging out with them and took mom up and back to the salon to get her hair done. It was a nice bonus to get a short visit in with the folks, especially with a heightened sense of appreciation for how well they are doing, but with about three hours and forty-five minutes to go, I was anxious to get back on the road to home.
</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>I spent the majority of the remainder of the trip on phone calls catching up and getting things confirmed and lined up for the next few weeks. I was looking forward to a good nights sleep, a day off and then back at it with performances Sunday at a winery in Geneva on the Lake, community concert Wednesday evening in Medina, two festivals dates and a private party the following weekend... </div>
<div></div>
<div>It was a good trip. </div>
<div> </div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>My notes from the Dalton Museum:</div>
<div>The shoot out occurred Oct 5th, 1892</div>
<div>Coffeyville started as a trading post-1869 </div>
<div>By ‘72 became a train rail-head town to ship cows</div>
<div>Oklahoma territory </div>
<div>Red hot street</div>
<div>Gambling prostitution murder</div>
<div>Cattle and cowboys brought money</div>
<div>Between 1871-72 pop doubled</div>
<div>Farmers replacing cowboys</div>
<div>By 1890s was a farming town no one carried guns a religious town</div>
<div>Daltons lived there for a couple of years. Adeline Younger (from the Younger gang that ran with Jessie James) married Luis Dalton (a looser) and had 15 kids</div>
<div> </div>
<div>Her oldest son Frank 25 was US deputy under hanging judge Parker </div>
<div>Greg his younger brother worked with Frank too. Frank got killed in the line of duty and Greg had a dispute over pay.</div>
<div> </div>
<div>The younger brothers started stealing horses and turned to robbing trains and by 1889 were serious outlaws 1890. US marshal Tec Thomas was after them</div>
<div>They also violated the code of the west when they killed two doctors and had widespread public animosity toward them:</div>
<div>“Don’t bother a good woman and don't hurt a preacher or a doctor” </div>
<div>Bob Dalton hatched the plan to rob two banks and wanted to become more famous than Jessie James</div>
<div>Grat Dalton was older, but not a leader and drank a lot </div>
<div>21 Emmet Dalton was the youngest of the outlaws.</div>
<div>Bob Dalton saw this as their last holdup to make money fame and would leave the country after the Oct 5, 9:00 AM 1982 raid</div>
<div>In early October after the crops were sold, the banks would be flush with the farmers' money. </div>
<div>When the Daltons rode into town they were wearing fake “whiskers” so they wouldn’t be recognized. They had two other partners with them. They were going to tie their horses to a community hitching rail located between the two banks. Unfortunately for them, the rail had been removed due to road construction, so they tied their horses up they nearby alley.</div>
<div> As they walked out of the alley, they were recognized by one of the shop clerks, and when the gang split up going into each bank, he realized what was going on. He told John Clair the livery owner and a known sharpshooter and also the owner of Isham’s hardware store</div>
<div>Isham started passing out rifles and ammo</div>
<div>Condon bank stalled for 15</div>
<div>The first national started the shooting</div>
<div>15 armed citizens shooting</div>
<div>4 citizens dead three more wounded</div>
<div>Emmett Dalton had 23 bullet wounds but survived, recovered, and spent 14 years in prison </div>
<div>John Clair “The world loves men who do their duty well”.</div>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033852019-06-19T20:00:00-04:002020-09-16T13:19:20-04:00Superior Songs
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/c2f3121d815337334367cceb9ee9b1da6eb9e236/original/img-3041.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" style="vertical-align: middle; display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Spring 2019</p>
<p>Bowman Island, Lake Superior, Ontario Ca.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Pedestrian Ramblings</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Superior Tunes: A return to Nipigon </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 2">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>It has been three years since I first visited Nipigon, Ontario. My friend Jerry Darkes had invited me to accompany him and a group of other anglers for a week of fishing at Gary Langs’ Bowman Island Lodge. He no more than mentioned Nipigon and I told him I was interested in going. This is a fabled place in the world of anglers for it was here that the world record brook trout was caught in 1913. The Nipigon River drainage is the epicenter of the range of a unique, exceptionally large strain of brook trout known as “coasters”. I had first heard about coasters from my dear friend Terry Harmon. I don’t believe there is anyone in Ohio who knows more about brook trout than Terry. Terry has enjoyed a remarkable career as an environmental educator at University School and developed a small fish hatchery on the school grounds. For years he has reared brook trout as a part of his educational program. His knowledge and enthusiasm are really remarkable and years ago he told me about these gigantic fish and their remarkable story. Being the educator that he is, his enthusiasm piqued my interest and I hoped that one day I might get the opportunity to visit their habitat.</p>
<p>It is easy to become captivated with brook trout. They are incredibly beautiful fish. Their fins are often tinted red, with cream accents and their dark olive bodies are covered with orange and blue dots on the sides, with broken, black lines on their backs. And all of these features are enhanced during the fall spawning season. Jerry took this picture of a fish Kim Benbow caught, that is about as pretty as they get! </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/9e6c98ab18dbc5a23b640404b449f46a75f26243/original/img-3488.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDUweDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" width="450" /></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>They are widespread through Appalachia, up into eastern Canada and portions of the Great Lakes drainage and are really members of the char family. These fish were historically distributed, near shore, around Lake Superior, and many of the larger islands, including Isle Royal. They require pure, cold, well-oxygenated water. And in addition to silt-free, cold water, certain geologic features are important to successful brook trout reproduction.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 3">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>They spawn in the fall of the year, on silt-free gravel stream beds. Using their fins, they make a shallow depression in the gravel. The displaced gravel creates a small mound downstream of the depression. The fish deposit their eggs on this gravel mound. As water flows over the depression, it goes into, and up through the mound of gravel. The eggs are bathed by this up-rising clear, cold, oxygenated water. If any one of these components is removed or compromised, they can’t reproduce.</p>
<p>In lakes, they are able to reproduce near shore with the right conditions. Sections of the Lake Superior shore have many beaches that consist of round granite cobble and gravel, not sand, but gravel. In certain situations, when streams or springs are flowing into the lake, they may seem to disappear, when actually, all, or some of the water will sink into these gravel beaches.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e3f25964763d2b09bea4d924e69114e96ce6c9a9/original/cobble-beaches.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTk5eDM5OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="399" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="599" /></p>
<p>The water flows through the gravel creating up-welling springs further out in the lake. The coasters take advantage of this up-welling “current” and create redds on the submerged gravel bars in the lake. This phenomenon replicates the conditions of a stream built redd.</p>
<p>There is incredible diversity within the species with regard to coloration and size. In small mountain streams, they might average six or seven inches in length, weigh in under a half a pound, and may never lose their vertical “parr” marks. In some regions, however, they can get much larger. Labrador is known for big brook trout, but the Nipigon strain is historically known as the biggest of all, and a one-hundred-year-old world record confirms this. I took a picture of Jerry holding a cardboard replica of the huge trout. In some locations they are quite colorful year-round and in other areas, they may be silver or platinum color. But during the spawning season, they are remarkably brilliant.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 4">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>At the turn of the last century, brook trout suffered widespread declines in population and distribution due primarily to shifts in land use. The clearing of the eastern hardwoods and the vast pine forest of the eastern and Great Lakes regions of North America significantly affected both water quality and water temperature. This was compounded by the misdirected efforts of early conservationist and angling enthusiasts who tried to off-set declining numbers with re-stocking or introducing “compatible” non-native species. Increased pollution and the wild spread use of pesticides also contributed to their decline. These factors contributed to the demise of brook trout strains that had evolved over hundreds of years in an isolated stream, in unique conditions. The Nipigon strain was not only affected by these influences as key components of their habitat was destroyed and the Nipigon River was dammed in several places to produce electricity, but these fish also suffered from excessive angling pressure as they were the largest strain of a popular game fish.</p>
<p>At the time the world record trout was caught, the population of coaster brook trout was already in decline. When word spread that the number of fish was decreasing, the fishing pressure amplified as wealthy fishing enthusiast came to try and catch one before they were all gone. Anglers were coming from across the globe to target these beautiful fish. Of course, this occurred before the creation and implementation of any comprehensive wildlife management strategies in North America and the continent had already seen tremendous decreases in native wildlife populations. Bison and many other large mammals had been eliminated from the majority of their home range. The passenger pigeon had been completely exterminated and a host of other birds including ivory-billed woodpecker were in serious decline. The future was rather bleak for the Nipigon strain of brook trout.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 5">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>For nearly fifty years the coaster strain teetered on the verge of elimination ad they existed in tiny populations, in ideal conditions, around a few islands and near the shore of the big lake. Then, in the 1960s, the US Fish and Wildlife Service began working with their counterparts in Canada and developed an international management plan. As a result, the populations began to slowly grow and re-establish in historical habitat. This is one of the most uplifting conservation stories that have occurred in my lifetime, so yes, I was interested in going and I spent the last weekend in May 2016 on Bowman Island.</p>
<p>The island is “Crown Land”, which is similar to BLM land in the U.S. And like BLM lands, there are a few homesteads and a variety of leases within the Crown Lands. Gary Lang had bought a un-used gravel lease over thirty years ago but he had no intention of developing a gravel operation. Sick by stick, and trip by trip he built his lodge on the island. He is a remarkable individual that seems capable of doing nearly anything. He has a pilots license, the equivalent of a U.S. Coast Guard commercial skippers license, and I am sure a number of other certifications and endorsements. He designed and build the lodge with materials he brought out on his 70ft salvaged trawler or milled on the island with his band saw.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/8b0152801a78f5ead69cbd1d5d49e26600ea1a07/original/bowmand-island-dock.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDM5OSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="399" width="600" /></p>
<p>He installed the water and the electrical systems, and he also built a very cool little sauna, which hands down, beats a shower any day of the week. Oh yes, he does the cooking for his clients and has also been doing his own biological fish monitoring program. He catches, tags, measures, records, and releases brook trout all around his and the neighboring islands. He is a great guy and he has built a very special place. And the fishing is pretty magical too!</p>
<p>I think Jerry met Gary at a fishing trade show and his first trip to Bowman Island was in 2015. He has gone back every year and I decided I was going back this spring. We had a great time in 2016 and I expected I would have a marvelous time this year. I intended to add a few items to the agenda for this trip!</p>
<p>I normally take a guitar on trips like this and play a few tunes for everyone at the lodge one night. This year, I thought I could put together a performance or two on the trip. So I started looking into possible venues and any issues associated with performing in Canada. Jerry fixed me up with an evening after we came back from the island at another fishing lodge, but as it turned out, I had to get back for a performance here home, so I couldn’t do that. But after conferring with a few folks, I contacted the La Luna Cafe which is located about a quarter mile from the marina. Caitlin and John were happy to have me play the night before our group would leave for the island. I also began thinking about how quiet it was on the island and wondered if I could do a little “seat of the pants” recording. Silence is a premium commodity in today's world, at least for those of us who are trying to find it. I am always looking for quiet places and my buddy Bill Lestock has often talked about how microphones behave differently outside. So I thought it might be cool to take a day off of fishing to play and record a few tunes. So that was my plan!</p>
<p>It’s a nearly a 15-hour drive, and I was making it alone. I left my house at 10:00 AM and was at the Voyager Inn northeast of Sault Ste. Marie at 7:30. This is a cool and quaint family owned compound, with a gas station, restaurant, gift shop, general store and motel. My whole experience there made me feel like I was on the set of an episode to the 80’s tv series “Northern Exposure”. It is located on the north side of Trans-Can Highway and Lake Superior is on the other side. I would eat dinner, sleep and have breakfast there and then drive the remaining 4-5 hour leg of the trip over to Nipigon.</p>
<p>The Trans-Can is a two-lane highway, with the occasional passing lane. The speed limit is 90 kilometers an hour, which is like 55 MPH. It is a spectacular drive. All was going as planned until I hit stopped traffic on the edge of the little town of Wawa. After sitting in the car for 30 minutes or so, a local Wawa police officer drove by and told me there had been anaccident and the highway would be closed until mid-afternoon at the earliest. I happen to have the good fortune of being stopped right at the intersection to go to the Wawa Airport, which I turned onto. I drove past the airport and on into town and saw a sign advertising free WiFi at a Subway. I made it to the Subway, ordered lunch and began to consider my options. I was supposed to start at La Luna at 7:00. No worries, plenty of time I thought. I asked a local about the option of detouring around the wreck. He said that would be at least a 10-hour drive, on a very bad road, going up to a little town called Timmons. Someone else suggested a bush road, two track if I wanted to risk that! Since we didn’t buy the off-road package for the Honda Civic I thought I better pass on that. Evidently, a semi had struck a pedestrian at 1:30 AM and the Royal Canadian Police were re-recreating the accident scene and involved in a pretty serious investigation.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 6">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Long story short, I got back on the road at 2:30 PM and pulled up in front of the La Luna at 6:40. No one was there except Caitlin and her husband when I came in. It is a really cool brick building with a nice storefront, right next door to the Nipigon Historical Center. I sat down at a table and began tuning my guitar when Jerry came strolling in about ten till and came over to join me. I told him that it might just be me and him for the night when a local came in. Jimmy McCullough.</p>
<p>Jim is about 75 if I were to guess, and he came right up to the table and said he had heard there was supposed to be an out of towner playing music tonight, and assumed that was me. As there were just a few folks in the diner and I was the only one holding a guitar, I guess he was asking a rhetorical question. In a matter of moments, I found out that Jim was a musician, had played bass in a band with his son, been kicked out for someone younger, also played guitar and had a homemade CD, “As Is”. He also had several Youtube videos. I asked him if he wanted to play a few tunes and without hesitation, he was thumping my guitar.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p style="text-align: center;"> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/6f510823a4d8e51f107c7cd315392edbc1c46743/original/img-3027.jpeg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTQ1eDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" width="545" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 7">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>He sang portions of three songs that he had written, and said he couldn’t remember all the lyrics. I told him I could relate. Jerry and I were enjoying being entertained as a few more folks started trickling in, including six of the guys who would be joining us on the island.<br> Jim gave me my guitar back and I sat at the table and played a tune or two for each of the locals who came in including a couple from the states who were driving to Alaska. I figured I would cover the other guys one night on the island. It was a hoot!</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">We were scheduled to meet Gary at the dock at 1:00 the next day. Jerry and I had booked a room at a hotel on the outskirts of town. We would have had a few hours to kill in the morning, and Jerry noticed a small historical museum right next to La Luna. He called a number on the door and a wonderful lady, named Betty agreed to meet us at the museum and give us a private tour. It was a great little museum, just choc-a-bloc full of stuff related to the history of the town. Trapping, logging, railroads, Vikings and, of course, brook trout. They had some wonderfully preserved trout skin mounts. I had never seen anything quite like these. They are made by taking the preserved skin of the fish and sewing it to a piece of birch bark. I think sphagnum moss is used to give the skin “dimension”. Regardless of what they are stuffed with, they are really cool.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e4e02241d81cf583b04f662a0af568d16dff980f/original/native-american-brook-trout-skin-mount-copy.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDUweDE5MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="190" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="450" /></p>
<p>At one time they had a skin mount of the record fish. Unfortunately, it was nearly destroyed in a fire a few years ago but the museum still had about 75 percent of the charred remains of the skin on display. Fortunately, they had a few photographs and some fairly specific measurements enabling the creation of a cardboard cut out of the fish. It was a cool little museum and after an hour and a half or so, we made our way over to wait for Gary and his boat at the marina. As we were waiting, Jim McCullough rolled up on a bicycle. He knew Gary’s boat came in from the island around 12 noon to drop off last weeks’ and pick up this week’s clients, and he was coming to see us off.</p>
<p>There were some historical interpretive signs around the marina and he began giving us a historical overview of the town and the marina. We mentioned that we had just toured the museum and I could tell he was immediately taken back. Evidently Jim, normally provided those tours and was a bit put out that Betty had not invited him. Small towns...</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 8">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>The lodge and the fishing were just as I remembered. As it turned out, I had a stellar day Wednesday on the lake. I caught more than my fair share of big, beautiful coasters, and decided Thursday I would stay on the island. Gary has a small fleet of 16-foot fishing boats for his clients to use, and after everyone got off and on their way, I took my guitar and a few odds and ends up the hill behind the lodge. Gary had built an open pole barn to store his boats in during the offseason and I thought this would work well as a windbreak. I found a couple of stacks of five-gallon buckets that I put to use as portable, functional tables. In addition to my guitar, I had my iPad, a Shure VM88 microphone and some Bose noise canceling headphones.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/0e835f9e327192b766eee46d4c6b6be19ddd7da4/original/img-3130.jpeg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDI1MSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="251" width="600" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">For the past five or six years, I have been using an app developed by Harmonic Dawgs called DAW. It is a sweet little program! It is simple and easy to use, and incredibly powerful for what it is. I have used it extensively to capture song ideas and to make basic recordings. I set up the IPad on the buckets, plugged in the headphones and mic, loaded up the program and started moving the buckets around to find a place that was in the wind shadow of the building and I started recording whatever tunes came to mind. I’d do a couple of versions and move on to the next one. As I was trying to get through one song, I kept screwing up at the same spot and was getting increasingly frustrated. When this starts to happen in a studio setting it is a compounding problem. You start feeling like you are wasting everyone’s time, time is money, and anxiety builds. All of this contributes to a mental barrier that effects your performance. As I was telling myself to calm down, I noticed a group of Blackburnian Warblers flitting about in the spruce trees. I thought what a pleasant distraction and I set back to work. It was simply great to dismiss a performance concern so easily. As the day warmed up the metal roof began to heat up and would occasionally “pop”. I fretted about this for a while and moved a little further outside of the building, and started to pick up more wind rumble and decided the occasional “pop” would be less of a distraction than the wind.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/07b5c7d21f71c3e997e1ca4f01560612fb9a027f/original/img-3122.jpeg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDU0MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="540" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Every couple of hours I would take a break and go visit with Gary, have a cup of coffee and relax at the lodge a bit. All together I recorded several “takes” of 13 different songs. It was one of the most enjoyable recording sessions I have ever had. And this is how the idea for “Superior Tunes” came about. A simple product, just a collection of tunes recorded on an island with an Ipad.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 9">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p> </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033842018-12-23T19:00:00-05:002018-12-24T08:20:30-05:00Christmas 2018
<p>Pedestrian Ramblings</p>
<p class="p1">SWM</p>
<p class="p1">December 24, 2018</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">Christmas </p>
<p class="p4">A Life Time Of Ornaments</p>
<p class="p5">I reflect on the past this time of year more so than at New Years. These reflections were enhanced last night as MJ and I were decorating the tree. First, I have to say I bought the most “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree” ever. Tall, spindly, and asymmetrical! It looked good hanging up in the lot, but as soon as I pulled it out of the truck I knew I had a bit of a problem. You see, my contribution to holiday preparations is fairly minimal, and I live with a homemaker that rivals Martha Steward in style and taste, but with much more compassion and grace. I was a bit panicked for delivering inferior goods. </p>
<p class="p5"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/5adfb08956885e91d93ccebd3578950c072fcdca/original/56719714294-ac8e49b2-58a6-4f34-900f-9c5e8b9adcfb.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjY0eDM1MyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="353" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="264" /></p>
<p class="p6"> </p>
<p class="p5">I immediately texted the girls, hoping that I could get some mental and emotional support from my daughters. I pleaded that the cold and lack of food had clouded my limited tree selection skills, and after digitally rehearsing my spiel, I put the word out to the master of holiday ambiance, that I had chosen poorly. To my relief, I was assured it would be alright. </p>
<p class="p5">In years gone by, this may have been a bigger issue than it seemed to be this year. It might have been resolved by getting another tree and decorating “Charlie Brown’ outside for the birds. But this year, things are a little different. Our kids are grown, our niece and nephews are in college, and our grandson is the only youngster in the family. Still, we will be hosting extended family tonight. </p>
<p class="p5">We have evolved our present exchange to a gift swap, so there is no longer the madness of excessive gift giving, but there will be exceptional food and the lovely aura of the holiday, brought about by decor, music and the gathering of family. Even though we are certainly in the process of diminishing the hoopla, I am unsure of how all of these things are settling. </p>
<p class="p5">After considering cutting a foot off the tree, it was determined that it would be OK, and I brought up five storage bins out of the basement marked Xmas, and MJ and I began to select and place ornaments on the tree. They clearly represent our life time together. She had made ornaments for our first tree, fabric birds, presents, snowmen, and other holiday shapes. They bring back clear recollections of that time, how little we had, and her commitment to making our apartment a home. </p>
<p class="p6" style="text-align: center;"> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/50c4f00cdea5e362f84e198136c4d9987527feba/original/img-1888.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzAweDQwMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="400" width="300" /></p>
<p class="p6">As the years went by, we assembled a collection of ornaments that reflected our growing family, school projects, increased prosperity, vacations and trips, relocations associated with work, significant friendships and various park projects. With each one I touched, thoughts and images came to mind from these times past. How lovely. </p>
<p class="p6">This past year has been a good one in so many regards. While I am still adjusting to my personal re-direction after leaving the public sector, I have been busy. I had 78 performances this year and several presentations. One of the highlights being my show for the New Mexico Park and Recreation Association in Santa Fe. There have been a number of other delightful engagements, and I have really come to enjoy playing music and performing with my son Phil. We have really shared some great shows. The muse’ have graced me, and I have written some very good songs and made several good recordings. I was fortunate to work with Bill Lestock, who is a remarkable talent, to collaborate with Caroline Quine, and get ongoing support from Alex Bevan, my brother Jeff Madewell and a host of other musicians. One of the new songs was favorably reviewed by Reverb Nation, resulting in a slot next April as a featured songwriter. </p>
<p class="p5">On the outdoor front, I caught a giant permit in Belize, which many folks regard as a fish of a lifetime, and I was also able to travel to Labrador and fish in the boreal forest. That was a life list experience for me. And while I haven’t completely checked out of the conservation world, I am torn between continuing to dial my involvement back or becoming more engaged. I am on the board of a couple local conservation organizations, and one state and one national organization. My involvement with institutions is a bit of a conundrum for me. It is important work, but I am hesitant to be “full-in” or maybe slow to recognize that at this stage of life, I am full in. I do know I really don’t care to go to another structured meeting. I had enough of that for one lifetime. </p>
<p class="p7">One of the most important things about this year is that fact I was able to visit with my folks without the worry of running a big park system. My pop was in and out of the hospital several times, but at 94 he is doing remarkably well, and at 88 mom is doing great. One Saturday morning over breakfast at their house, I had the realization that I wasn’t worried about some personnel problem, a local political issue, or fall-out associated with a park project. It was nice to just be there. </p>
<p class="p5" style="text-align: center;">I have got to get busy preparing appetizers for the evening. A pork belly is in the smoker that I need to finish off, sweet peppers need to be roasted and venison tenderloins are ready to be grilled, sliced, and assembled into miniature sandwiches. I will set about my tasks, with gratitude for all of the prosperity, love and support I have enjoyed this year, and with warm thoughts in my mind and love in my heart for all the people in my life.</p>
<p class="p5" style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/cd1ceed1b4a0980e5e9ba09d0ad6160e699593fb/original/img-1884.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzczeDYyOSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="629" width="373" /></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033832018-11-28T19:00:00-05:002018-11-29T11:41:41-05:00An On Going Tradition
<p>Pedestrian Ramblings</p>
<p class="p1">SWM</p>
<p class="p1">November 28, 2018</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">Deer Camp</p>
<p class="p4">An Ongoing Tradition</p>
<p class="p5">Sitting at the cabin evening reflecting on years past. My cousin Kieth and I started deer hunting with my pop and my uncle Marvin when we were 12 and 13. That was 50 years ago. </p>
<p class="p5">I always think about the times spent in the field with a myriad of family and friends past on the night before the opening day. </p>
<p class="p5"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/299f71924fac73dfc40c2e402318d935458f96f4/original/img-0638.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDQ3eDMzMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="330" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="447" /></p>
<p class="p5">Good memories.</p>
<p class="p6"> Anyone who has been involved with cold weather, outdoor activities is well aware how quickly clothing and gear came accumulate preparing for various conditions, especially if it is a multi-day trip. I’ve spent the past few days gathering up things that have carefully and methodically stored in a number of places. The barn, the basement, the bedroom, the office, and the storage locker. While I have taken some time and thought, in how and where I have put things away, I haven’t always done a good job of recording or remembering where they are stored. So there is a great deal of walking back and forth, going up and down steps, consolidating and sorting. It’s really a ridiculous process, but it is a process, and that is part of the tradition. </p>
<p class="p5">When Uncle Marv and Dad started deer hunting in Ohio, deer were not abundant across the state, and they drove to south central Ohio, where the deer were plentiful. They slept in a truck camper the first year, a primitive log cabin with some friends the second. When Kieth and I started coming we used a combination of campers and tent camping. We would take a mountain of, by today’s standards, primitive gear. </p>
<p class="p5">I frantically go about my treasure hunt, looking for various odds and ends, bringing them to a central collection area to sort into, essential, backup, this might be nice to take, and the, I never use this and why do I still have it, categories. So many of these things were given to me by family and friends, and each time I pick up one of those items, my hurried demeanor shifts into a warm moment of reflection. I think about that person and how I happened to receive this little reminder of our relationship, leather suspenders, a knife, a wool shirt. And these feelings continue to accumulate as I pack. And this was the “concept” behind the song on Arrow Creek, Wrapped Inside Your Love. The notion of associating the love of friends and family with gifts. <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/0a72a2fe95b732dac0b28805a5c6d9a6fa6aa98e/original/img-0643.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzM5eDI1NCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="254" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="339" /> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033822018-10-30T20:00:00-04:002018-10-30T23:49:59-04:00The Evolution of a Song
<p>Pedestrian Ramblings</p>
<p>SWM</p>
<p>September 20, 2018</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Evolution of a Song</p>
<p>From an idea, to a song, to a recording</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I doubt that many people think about how a song they hear changes from an idea, to a song to a finished recording. There are a remarkable series of steps involved, each with their own contribution to creating the finished product that might be heard on a CD or the radio. Most of my involvement with recording for other folks has been showing up to offer a specific contribution, like singing a back up vocal or contributing an instrumental part. With my own past projects, I really worked to keep things relatively simple, very little multi-tracking and post recording processing. I was always working within my own musical limits and technical skills to attain a recording project that would reflect a solo performance. But this year I have been enjoying the incredible experience of working with Bill Lestock who is not only a remarkable musician but also an amazing producer. This collaboration has illustrated the phenomenon of joint creativity and how the idea of a song can evolve.</p>
<p>Where does the idea of a song come from? I have made a few presentations on the creative process of song writing. People often ask the same questions, where does the idea come from, do you have a story that you are trying to tell, did you write that song around that expression, does the melody come first and then the lyrics or the lyrics then the melody. But, I have never been asked how many times did I rewrite the lyrics, or re-arrange the melody or even change the melody. </p>
<p>For me I can say that song writing experience has happened in many ways, but the song generally comes together much faster if the lyrics come first. I may hear a melody in my head or stumble across a musical line while playing my guitar and build a song around that melody, but often I experience something that brings about some sort of emotional insight and I hear, or come up with a phrase or a saying that reflects the essence of that emotion. </p>
<p>2017 was a very emotional year and I observed or experienced a number of things that prompted me to write the song, “One thing At A Time”. Like many folks, I use Facebook to keep in touch with friends and family, promote my musical endeavors and share some of my day to day activities and events. Over the course of the past several months, Facebook has become a forum for a great deal of visceral, mean spirited public exchange, complete with name calling, personal attacks, and intentional and un-intentional mis-information. Whatever efforts that were being offered to share insight or compelling points of view were often lost in a morass of very negative behavior. This seemed to illustrate just how overwhelming the challenge of working together and finding unity has become in contemporary society. </p>
<p>While I believe that many people would agree, that we as a society are facing some very real challenges, it seems in this social media forum, there is little, if any, meaningful dialog being directed toward resolution of pressing issues, and bringing people or ideas together. Instead, there is a constant re-enforcement of tribalism and polarization. It struck me that as adults we have drifted away from the etiquette of social discourse we learned in elementary school. One of the most basic, of course, is no calling names. </p>
<p>So in addition to this Facebook hubris, I also read a news report of a congressional action that occurred in a very late night session. I appreciate the nature of the work that goes on in the legislative process, but this appeared intentionally orchestrated to avoid or minimize public feedback or involvement, almost “hid in the darkness”. </p>
<p>It struck me that somehow we have to collectively come together and find positive ways to confront the challenges we as a society, as a nation, as a people, face. The need for open dialog, civility, and common courtesy is paramount, and the basic premise of respect, communication and compromise appears to be lost, and while this seems nearly impossible to bridge the growing fractures that our society is experiencing, the optimist in me believes we can make this happen, the pragmatist in me believes it must happen. But it is apparent this will take work and will be a long journey, and we have to begin with the first step.</p>
<p>The notion that we have to respect each other, especially those that are less fortunate or unable to care for themselves seems simple enough and I would hope, a universal belief. I would argue that most people agree with the idea that our methods of governance should be transparent. And nearly everyone acknowledges that old saying “many hands make small work”. So is it possible to focus on taking small steps toward an attainable better place? </p>
<p>These were the emotions that influenced the idea of the song One Step at a Time. Putting these emotions into thought, and putting these thoughts down on paper, in simple clear rhyme was the next step. The first story line that I began toying with, was the notion of seeing someone mining and moving stone and the idea that a stone can be the basic building block of a house. First, there is a foundation, and then a wall, and ultimately a building. As I was trying to capture a lyrical story line, I also begin working on a melody that could carry these phrases, complete with a refrain to emphasize the primary message, we can do more if we work together. I re-wrote the lyrics several times to condense and clarify the notions of compassion for others, honesty and transparency, and civility, until they flowed well within the rhyme and meter of the poem. As I was working on the lyrical flow, I would play the song over and over again developing a musical sense of how the song could be performed, hopefully in a manner that would be engaging in the genera of contemporary folk music.</p>
<p>As the song started to come together, I began performing the song at various small venues. As the song developed, I began to tweak my delivery to make it more presentable and it became apparent that it did resonate with the audience.</p>
<p>In the late spring of 2018, I played the tune for Bill Lestock at his house. Bill has recorded and produced several cds and has his own approach to production and building and arrangement. He captured a simple, but quality, recording of just me singing and playing the tune on my guitar. Several weeks later, much to my surprise, Bill sent me a mix of a recording of the song. He had added an electric guitar, a slide guitar, a bass guitar, a percussion track, an organ and a vocal harmony. I knew that Bill was a multi-instrumentalist, but wasn’t really anticipating he would make such an invest of time and talent in the song. Before I could ask him where he got the idea to add a slide guitar and an organ, he asked me if I was ok with what he did with my song. OF course I was enamored with what he had added. He began to tell me about how he could hear various parts as he listened to the song and began to add instrumentation one tract at a time. </p>
<p>I immediately sent this mix to my dear friend, Caroline Quine who is a marvelous vocalist and is immensely gifted at crafting vocal harmonies. Caroline lives in Boulder, Colorado, and we performed together in college and have collaborated on performance and recording projects over the years. We have shared music and ideas for years over the internet, and I thought she would immediately hear harmony lines that would add to the sone. There are many approaches to developing a harmony line in a song. A harmony is often developed around an interval below or above the melody. What makes Caroline such a joy to work with is her ability to craft a harmony that may change intervals to accentuate the emotion of the musical or lyrical phrase. She is a true master of this craft. In a matter of days, Caroline returned my email with a recording of a vocal track she had added to the song. As it turned out, Caroline was coming to Ohio later in the month and was able to come to Bill’s studio where she sang and we recorded a number of vocal harmonies for the song. </p>
<p>In addition to the instrumentation that Bill had contributed to the song, he set about the process of refining the mix of the recordings. That involved modifying the levels and tone of each track and the balance of the sum of all the tracks in the creation of the whole. After hours of listening and tweaking various levels and process effects, he invited me come to his house to review how the recording was coming together. Together we made adjustments until we had what we felt was a very good, listenable product. We made several distinct mixes, striving with each version to develop a mix where each tract added to and didn’t diminish their parts, or “clutter up” the sound of the song. We listened to the mixes on various systems and including three different cars! </p>
<p>Good was not enough for Bill and after several days he resumed the process of remixing and reprocessing the song. He removed and replaced one guitar part, changed the levels and effects on a number of tracks and then processed the sum of all the recordings into one final mix. </p>
<p>My idea for a song, based on societal observations, evolved into a tune, that was enhanced by Bill’s “audio vision” for what the song could be and how this arrangement could make the song more powerful in conveying it’s emotion and message. Caroline’s supporting vocal lines add support and emphasis at key points in the song to enhance the listeners engagement. And I am extremely happy to have such talented friends and colleagues that have made “One Thing at a Time” so much more than I could have envisioned on my own...</p>
<p>“Together we can move so much more when we pull” </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033812018-08-27T20:00:00-04:002021-06-29T23:15:51-04:00Re-Entry Returning from Labrador
<p>Re-Entry</p>
<p>Often people ask where do I get ideas or inspirations for songs. To read a short essay about my recent trip to Labrador. Click on the link at the bottom of the photo!<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/8977dfa89dea65f7a92b91a1f64e044217675662/original/lichens.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzI0M3gxNDUwIl0%3D.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="1450" width="3243" /></p>
<p><a href="/files/497915/re-entry.pdf" data-imported="1">Re-entry.pdf</a></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033802018-04-22T20:00:00-04:002018-04-23T15:56:58-04:00Howard Marsh
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/7625a839a5c5a4cfddb274401c69f2395c1835ad/original/madewell-trial.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MTUzNngyMDQ4Il0%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="2048" width="1536" />Howard Marsh</p>
<p class="p1">Today the Toledo Metroparks opened Howard Marsh Metropark and early this afternoon I had the tremendous honor of cutting a ribbon, and symbolically opening the boardwalk for public use.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">My involvement with the project began in 2012 when I became the Executive Director of the Metroparks Serving Toledo. I actually very little to do with the project beyond supporting the dedicated professionals who made this vision become a reality. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Howard Marsh is a remarkable project with a remarkable story. It is perhaps the largest single wetland restoration in the Great Lakes. For decades waterfowl hunters and wetland managers had dreamed of acquiring Howard Farm and restoring it to a coastal wetland. That vision was ultimately shared by bird watchers, naturalist, and environmentalist. But this would prove to be a large, complicated project requiring a vision, shared leadership, host of determined, committed partners, about 17 million dollars and well over a decade of focused work. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">By 2012 the park system had already acquired approximately 1,000 of the Howard Farm and was well underway with preliminary planning for the project. Tim Schetter had been responsible for putting together multiple funding sources to acquire the property. He had utilized money from Metroparks, the state of Ohio and the Federal Government. Of the years that I have spent in the park and recreation field, I have met very few professionals who have been as creative and as successful as Tim is securing funding for the acquisition and restoration of natural areas. This project was a perfect example of his ability to build and assemble the necessary resources to make a project move forward. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Dennis Franklin had previously worked for the Ohio Department of Natural Resources, Division of Wildlife and had and extensive background and experience in managing wetlands and actually has a road named in his honor at Metzger Marsh State Wildlife Area. His knowledge and understanding of local conditions and the local community were immensely important for the project to advance. The Metroparks was very fortunate to have Dennis on the team. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Dave Zenk was the Metroparks administrative representative and Dave had the dubious task of sharing the project status with me and explaining why certain decisions were being made and how the project was developing. From my perspective it was apparent that the park system would not have the financial resources to build this project and address the needs of many other significant projects that were on hold. Consequently, I recommended to the Park Commissioners that the agency pursue a new levy in the fall of 2012. And with the hard work of a number of people, the support of many organizations, institutions, and the majority of voters in Lucas County, the levy proposal successfully passed. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">With funding in hand, the project continued to move forward. I requested that the planning team incorporate amenities into the project design that would go beyond simply restoring and creating wetlands on the property. I was hoping the finished project would provide the maximum amount of opportunity for the citizens and visitors of Lucas County to experience a wetland. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">What the team produced was remarkable. In addition to the habitat and ecological services associated with a large wetland restoration there are over 6 miles of walking trails, boardwalks and water trails for kayaking and canoeing. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">I have enjoyed a great career acquiring and restoring open spaces and providing opportunities for outdoor recreation. The four and a half years that I spent in Toledo was certainly the capstone of my experience in the public sector. </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033792018-03-01T19:00:00-05:002018-03-03T04:04:07-05:00Belize
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/06948a07842913efe63dca4281081c644dc18be9/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-19-59-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDQ4NSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="485" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>A Permit On The Fly...</p>
<p>Three years in the making.<br>My second Belizean experience and my first trip to the Blue Bonefish Lodge</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Several years ago, MJ and I had the opportunity to stay at the Chan Chich lodge in Belize. We had a great experience enjoying the jungle and associated plant and animal life, the Mayan ruins and the luxury of one of the worlds first well-done eco-lodges.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2f954ea64c2323f282810052167e38f2e9642d3b/original/file.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDM0MSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="341" width="800" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 2">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Belize is known for its incredible scuba and snorkeling opportunities afforded by an incredible barrier reef with unique coral formations and abundant and diverse fish populations. In addition, Belize has incredible fishing with quick easy access to blue water as well as miles and miles of shallow flats and countless mangroves lagoons. The flats and mangroves provide the perfect habitat for bonefish, permit, tarpon and a host of other game fish. On that trip, however, we didn’t spend any time exploring the coast. </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 3">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>I have spent a considerable amount of time casting a fly rod, tying flies and all manner of activities associated with fly fishing but my time fishing in saltwater has been limited. Needless to say, I was more than a little interested when my friend Jerry Darkes told me that he was putting together a trip to the Blue Bonefish Lodge in Belize in 2016. Jerry’s friends, Jim and Phyllis Johnson had expanded their fishing operation and opened a new lodge near San Pedro on Ambergris Caye. </p>
<p>The Johnson family has been involved with guiding and fly fishing hospitality for over three decades. They initially started offering day trips on Michigan rivers including the famed steelhead and salmon stream, the Pere Marquette. With their commitment to providing quality experiences and exceptional service they quickly grew their business and ultimately built a lodge in Baldwin, Michigan, then Alaska and now in Belize. </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 4">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>The first trip was scheduled for February 2016 but a professional obligation prevented me from going and I had to defer to the following year. Unfortunately, the same thing happened in 2017!<br>The third time was the charm however and as 2018 rolled around, MJ and I anxiously got our itinerary together to head south for a break from the NE Ohio winter.</p>
<p>Belize is a relatively small but incredibly interesting country with a host of cultural influences. There are extensive Mayan ruins throughout the jungle and archeologists continue to gain insight into the size and complexity of this lost civilization.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/666da5c946d6f96614f0e4bc68f119eed3164b5b/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-29-17-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDUyNCJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="524" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 5">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>An independent Commonwealth Belize recognizes Queen Elizabeth II as the head of state and monarch. Consequently, the Queens image is on all the money. The primary language is English but Spanish and Belizean Creole is also spoken. There is a profound mixture of European and native cultures. </p>
<p>From an ecological perspective, there is a lot going on in this small country! Central America is heavily utilized by migratory birds but other wildlife use this connection between North and South America as well. The Mesoamerican Biological Corridor Project is a focused, an international conservation effort to document and sustain natural systems in this unique region. </p>
<p>We flew out of Cleveland to Huston and on into Belize City. A thirty-minute cab ride took us to a water taxi which ferried us to San Pe- dro. “la Isla Bonita” is the subject of the song recorded and performed by Madonna written about San Pedro and Ambergris Caye!</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 6">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>Jerry was waiting to pick us up when we got off the ferry and we stopped to pick up another couple at the airport. With five people and associated luggage piled into and onto a golf cart club car we set off for the 4.2-mile ride to the Blue Bonefish Lodge.</p>
<p>I can’t overemphasize the condition of the road. It was a mess with one equipment breaking pothole after another. The bone-jarring ride to the lodge added to the element of adventure.</p>
<p>We found the lodge located right on the water and the accommodations were very nice. About half of our party stayed at the lodge and the other half stayed at the adjacent house which had been rented for our group. Both the lodge and the adjacent house had a small pool, great balconies, and an open airy floor plan. Breakfasts and dinners were served in the lodge.</p>
<p><img src="http://madewellmusic.com/img/Screen_Shot_2018-03-02_at_4.33.25_PM.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="602" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 7">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>There was a decent sized dock where the fishing guides picked up the anglers at 7:30 and returned them around 3:30. The fishing boats were an open style fiberglass bay boat with a casting platform on the bow and a poling tower on the stern. They were different than any other flats boat I had seen, proportionally narrower with a deeper v hull design and 19-22 feet long. They were set up for two anglers in each boat.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 8">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/50eff44ee3456b7fdf3778b1b0b80b22ec72c3fb/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-36-57-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDYwMCJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="600" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
<p>Bonefishing guides are the subject of a lot of stories in the angling community. They have to have the ability to spot fish in all kinds of conditions. They maneuver the boat to provide the angler with the best opportunity to cast to the fish, accounting for wind conditions and the movement of the fish. They also have to understand and work within the limitations of their clients which involves several variables and they have to be able to communicate and explain all of this information to the angler.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 9">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>This is compounded by the fact most freshwater anglers are used to making short, delicate casts on streams. They aren’t used to casting from a boat in steady, heavy wind, nor are they used to casting at the distances required for flats fishing. Also, it is hard not to be excited when a school of fish is cruising your way and a guide is calling out a string of commands. “Do you see the fish? They are at 11:00, 75 feet moving to your right. Cast 1:00 as far as you can, let it sink. Strip, strip, no long steady strips, pick it up. Cast again, further this time... no the fish are gone. ” Needless to say a lot can and does go wrong and in these conditions and the fishing is anything but relaxing. It is an intense activity subject to multiple malfunctions and disappointment, but when it all comes together it is exhilarating, immensely rewarding and fun.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 10">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>On trips like this, it is not unusual to rotate fishing partners and guides every day. I fished with a different guide each day and each one had a remarkably different approach. Marco was easy going and easy to understand. Jose was soft-spoken but extremely demanding. “Listen to me and do exactly what I say or we are not going to have a productive day.” Rodger was like the Keith Richards of the fly fishing guides who talked about his playboy lifestyle and Valmont and David were younger than the other guides. </p>
<p>Valmont was quiet and insightful, David on the other hand, was constantly talking. Not necessarily to the anglers, but to the fish, as he stared out across the water while poling the boat. He would croon to the fish nonstop, asking them to show themselves, to provide just a little opportunity for us to cast to them. Assuring them we wouldn’t hurt them maybe just take a little picture or two.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 11">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>He was clearly focused on permit, he had a permit tattoo on his chest and a permit pedant hanging from his neck. </p>
<p>Our last day fishing was spent with David. Jerry had fished with David the day before and told me he had a good afternoon with him in a mangrove lagoon. They had found and enjoyed some great bonefishing so when David asked my fishing partner for the day Ted Heitman and I what we wanted to do I suggested we go back to where he and Jerry were the day before. </p>
<p>David listened, said ok, we will do that, and then stated we were heading to a permit flat. I have caught plenty of bonefish but had never caught a permit so I was certainly up for targeting a new fish on the fly. </p>
<p>Permit, by the way, are a peculiar looking fish. There are fish that are sleek and streamline and look like they were designed for swimming. Then there are those that are round and flat and really don’t look like they should swim. A permit is the later. Regardless of their appearance, they are incredibly fast and powerful fish.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 12">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>There is a fascinating system for designating fly rods primarily created around the size of the line the rod can effectively cast. I was using an 8 weight Orvis Helios II rod which was a bit light for these conditions. The reel was loaded with a Scientific Angler line that I borrowed from Jerry. The line was beautifully thought out incorporating a number of features in the design that enhanced the anglers ability to manage the line and consequently make more effective casts. The line was spooled on Ross saltwater reel with 200 yards of Dacron backing. The backing provides additional line to accommodate runs from large, strong fish that may have different ideas about where they want to go after they are hooked. Jerry had color-coded the backing in 100-yard increments so it was easy to keep track of how much line was out and how much was left on the reel. I had tied a 16-pound tippet on the end of a 10-foot tapered leader and was fishing a nondescript, tan colored, weighted crab in a size 4 pattern which was about the size of a quarter.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 13">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="http://madewellmusic.com/img/Screen_Shot_2018-03-02_at_4.39.35_PM.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="260" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></p>
<p>The way it generally works in a flats boat, one angler fishes at a time, and take turns based on the length of time, opportunity or casts taken or fish hooked and landed. David did his job and provided my fishing partner Ted and I several opportunities to cast to permit.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 14">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>I had blown two with poor casts and Ted had two refusals and it was my turn again.<br>Earlier in the day, I told David that I preferred to fish while wading in the water and he had indicated that if at all possible he would let me out of the boat if the conditions were right. In short order, I had an opportunity to do just that!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/e9dbcf5d15d81c9528ec3b7f4430322194c85e70/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-42-12-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDQ0OSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="449" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>We continued to work down a long flat toward and small island when we spotted a school of moving permit. As David dropped the anchor, I climbed over the starboard side of the boat. My objective was to move with the fish gradually getting close enough to cast to them or to get in a position where I could let the fish come to me. I had effectively used this approach with bonefish to compensate for my limited casting abilities. Basically, you are making and reacting to observations on the direction the fish are moving, how fast they are traveling and which way the wind is blowing. The closer you get to the fish the easier it is to spook them by moving or with a poor presentation of the fly. The fish were coming toward us about 150 to 200 feet out in front of the boat and heading slightly to our left. David and Ted also got out of the boat and we began moving in a direction to intercept the fish. They shifted their course again and began moving from left to right about 150 feet ahead of us. We also changed our direction and made a 90 degree turn hard toward the right. The fish were moving about 100-125 feet parallel to us and suddenly changed direction and began moving slightly toward us at a 45-degree angle from left to right. We continued to move to our right and when the fish were 80 feet out or so I set up to cast to them. The fish were coming toward us as I made a 45 to 50-foot cast at a 45-degree angle off of my right shoulder. David said the cast was too short and told me to pick it up and cast again. I decided it would be better to let the fish come to the fly and I let the fly sink. Maybe the fish responded to the fly hitting the water or maybe they turned on their own. For whatever reason, the entire school pivoted slightly and were swimming directly toward us. I could see the dorsal fins and tails of several fish breaking the water surface as they moved our way. There were at least 8 in the school and maybe twice that many and it was incredibly hard to keep my composure. When I was sure they were a few feet from my fly I began to retrieve the crab with a finger over finger line retrieve crawling the fly along the bottom. I immediately saw a fish tip up and felt it take the fly. I felt the tension as the fish moved to my left and took several feet of line. I sharply pulled the line hard with my left hand and lifted the rod up with my right hand. I heard David scream “Yeah Man You know how to do this!” And that is when the fish took off! The school of fish flared apart and then came back together and continued to move to our right.</p>
<div class="page" title="Page 17">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>The fly line was off of my rod in an instant and the Dacron backing was being pulled off of the reel at a remarkable rate. David said I needed to follow the fish so I wouldn’t run out of line. I took off toward the fish but told him there was 200 yards of backing on the reel. I suggested that he go see if he could get Ted a shot at that school. </p>
<p>As I followed the permit across the waist deep flat, I regained line whenever I got the opportunity. Four times I nearly got back to the fly line and each time the fish bolted away. As I was fighting the fish I began gradually walking backward and making my way toward the boat. </p>
<p>The school had long since moved on and Ted and David were coming back toward me. I noticed a huge cloud was looming on the horizon and heard David ask if I had anything in the boat that needed to be stowed away. Ted made his way to the boat, stored a few things, grabbed our rain jackets and also got his camera and was able to take all of the following fish pictures. By this time I had gotten the fly line back to the rod a couple times but was yet to get any fly line on reel.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 18">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>The sky opened up and a torrential rain came down that was so heavy that it was hard to see more than 30 to 40 feet. As David and Ted helped me into my rain jacket, David said this is like the “Old Man and the Sea”! I thought to myself, “That’s cool, but I don’t need any sharks man!”</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/2a516ffd1100df7c30f3243282e8d9de55d29b07/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-46-27-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDU5OSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="599" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
<p>In a matter of minutes, the rain began to lighten up and I continued to gain line on the fish but it was clear that the permit was a long way from being ready to come to hand. The small island was behind us and the boat was anchored off to our left. David told me to continue to move the fish into the shallower water and I continued to gradually back toward the island. The permit came toward me and started to arch to my right and continued around behind us heading toward the island and the boat anchor. David ran back and intercepted the fish to turn it away from the coral rocks and back toward the sandy bottom in front of me. The ensuing run once again took me deep into the backing. This time however as I reeled in line, I had the feeling that we were indeed going to land this fish!</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 20">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>David walked out in front of me perhaps 25 feet and after two attempts grabbed the permit at the base of the tail and lifted it out of the water.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/cce50e291788a97c34a23aec2f9de80fa67b9b98/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-46-45-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDgxOCJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="818" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The fish was thick and powerful, incredibly silver with just a tiny bit of mustard yellow on its belly. Ted took several photos but we were all too excited to take the time to set up any posed shots.</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 21">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p>When David lifted the fish out of the water the tapered leader was so stretched it coiled upon itself like a strand of DNA. I told him that when I had tied in the 16-pound test tippet I had not cut the leader as far up as I should have. In other words, the tippet was heavier than the end of the leader it was tied to. I recognized what I had done when I tied the tippet on but was in too big a hurry to cut and retie the tippet. From the moment I set the hook through the entire time the fish was on the line I was thinking “God, I hope the leader doesn’t break”!</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 23">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/53b660e2eb2b61e292a0319c537de603f297b424/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-46-57-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDU2NiJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="566" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" /></p>
<p>After a few quick pictures, David stuck three or four fingers into the fishes mouth and adroitly popped the fly out. He turned to me and said, “This was your fish man, you got to let her go.” So I grabbed the fish, slid her nose in the water and in an instant, she was gone. </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 24">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f8573ec9a2a52e41d09700719cfc2004c06f19d5/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-47-15-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6ODAweDU4NCJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="584" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="800" />I just had the privilege to enjoy and share an incredible experience, catching one of fly fishings most coveted prizes, and a pretty big one to boot! We waded over to the island and took a few minutes to regain our composure. </p>
<p>The next day, on the golf cart ride into town to take the water taxi back to Belize City I took notice of the cleared and drained lots. I couldn’t help but think how the development might affect the nearshore marine resources and the future fishing and diving opportunities that currently exist here. Belize is a develop- ing country and San Pedro is a developing island and the Belizean government is trying to be proactive creating measures to protect both the cultural and natural resources of the country. Having spent the better part of my life in the conservation and recreation industry, I have a great appreciation for experiences like the one I enjoyed. With changes in land use, consumptive and recreational use, and the impacts of pollution, it is unclear if the resources that enable these experiences are stable or subject to shifts and decline. I felt compelled to write the story of my experience not as a chronicle to my abilities but rather to document an incredible experience with a magnificent fish, in a very special place... in the ever-changing world we live in. </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="page" title="Page 26">
<div class="section">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f826a2d3979cde904ce4bc77ad3324dd92d7756d/original/screen-shot-2018-03-02-at-4-56-24-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAweDU5MiJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="592" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033782018-02-13T19:00:00-05:002018-02-14T01:38:44-05:00Sugar Snow
<p><img src="http://www.madewellmusic.com/img/SH.jpeg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="667" width="1000" />Last week we had the first “sugar snow” of the winter. “Sugar snow” comes in February or March. Living in the snow-belt you get to see enough snow events to identify specific characteristics for snow. Sugar snow has large, fluffy snow flakes. It quickly builds up on the ground but compresses through out the day and it has an ephemeral feel to it. </p>
<p>Many years ago while I was in college, I wrote a series of essays on the Inuit and Aleutian. I recall reading about how anthropologist were struggling to understand why these native people had at least twenty eight different names for snow, and then they realized they had names for 28 different kinds of snow! </p>
<p>For whatever combination of reasons, sugar snow is unique to this time of year which happens to be the time to collect maple sap for making syrup. </p>
<p>It was nearly forty years ago the first time I heard the term “Sugar Snow”. I was enamored with a certain young lady who was telling me about her life growing up the Lake Erie snow belt and how her best friends father made maple syrup. She described the sugar snow that would often fall at night or in the mornings during the late winter-early spring sugar season. </p>
<p>She described a wonderful image of a late evenings at a remote sugar shack in a big woods, surrounded by stacks of split wood, a constantly tended wood fired evaporator making billowy clouds of steam and the giant, soft, fluffy snow flakes falling on a snow covered ground. She said occasionally the old men running the process would take time to harden some fresh syrup in the snow or make some other type of maple candy for any on lookers or neighbors who might come to visit on their snow machines.</p>
<p>This sounded completely magical to a young man from southwestern Ohio. I had grown up surrounded by corn and bean fields and had no idea such things even occurred in Ohio. I also had no reason to suspect that in less than ten years, that same enchanting, lovely woman and I would be moving our young family to northeast Ohio where I would become the director of the Geauga Park District. The Geauga Park District is in the heart of Ohio’s maple production region. It had a substantial sugar bush operation including a beautiful sugar house and hosted tours for thousands of visitors through the facility. Life is full of amazing twists. </p>
<p>As the grey days of mid-winter drag on and the chill seems to settle deeper and deeper I often hear people complain about winter fatigue. I fight these same demons, but a late winter sugar snow fall triggers a wave of wonderful, emotional recollections for me of younger years, and the beginning of the long relationship with the love of my life. </p>
<p>This image is by Shari Blaukopf a remarkable Candian artist.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033772018-02-09T19:00:00-05:002018-02-10T04:04:52-05:00Ice Out 2/18
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/fc6d8c686cd090817668dd1a961095917bf98037/original/golden-rod-ice-out.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NzAweDU0NCJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="544" width="700" /></p>
<p>Nearly anytime spent on the stream is special but there are many “extra” special times. Sunrise, Twilight, a moonlit night, the roar of a flood but two events on the creek are always magical to me when the stream is freezing and when it is opening up. Some folks call this ice up and ice out. </p>
<p>Sometimes ice out is triggered by a warm rain. Combined with a heavy snow melt the release of energy can really be dramatic. If thick ice is on the stream, huge plates of ice get pushed up on the shore, scouring the banks and gashing big chunks of bark off of trees. Some plates melt on the shore others get broken apart into smaller pieces and float downstream. Ice jams often form at stream bends creating dams which can cause rapid fluctuations in water levels.</p>
<p>When temperatures gradually warm however ice out can be relatively gentle. Right now we are enjoying a slow thaw in the valley and the creek is coming alive after several weeks of bitterly cold temperatures. Generally, the ripples are the last places to close up and the first ones to open. These rivulets within the frozen stream are like windows into the flowing water below the ice. The water is clear, the gravel is bright. It is a beautiful thing to behold as the late winter steelhead season begins.</p>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033762017-10-28T20:00:00-04:002017-10-29T01:38:27-04:00So You Want To Be The Boss
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/c4d0642277742695614c831c2133920be87a62a6/original/so-you-want-to-be-the-boss.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDU2eDI5MiJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="292" width="456" /></p>
<p>So You Want To Be the Boss? </p>
<p class="p1">Observations and thoughts on the transition from front line interpretation to administration.</p>
<p class="p1">Moving into a supervisory role is generally regarded as essential part of career advancement. The the transition however, from front line interpretation to an administrative or supervisory position often requires significant changes in attitude and self motivation. These shifts are necessary to accommodate changes in responsibilities. Taking the time to recognize that this is an essential process can enhance a successful transition, avoid unnecessary stress or a bad career decision. </p>
<p class="p1">I started working for a small park system as an environmental educator and within a matter of months began supervising staff. Ultimately I became an upper level administrator and served as the executive director of several regional park districts before retiring in 2016. Through the course of my career I had several personal experiences with this regard and watched many colleagues go through this transitional process as well.</p>
<p class="p1">On many occasions the organization or individuals involved realized this was not a good move. Some people successfully negotiated returning to a prior position but in some instances they left the agency or even left the field.</p>
<p class="p1">Understand your motivation.</p>
<p class="p1">Before considering a supervisory position an individual should understand not only their motivation, but also what personal rewards are essential for success.</p>
<p class="p1">For many people in this field there are many important motivators beyond a pay raise.</p>
<p class="p1">A successful interpreter/educator knows how incredibly rewarding it I can be to see a look of understanding come across a program participants face or the light heartedness that comes at the conclusion of a successful presentation. </p>
<p class="p1">This gratification may not come as often for an administrator or supervisor who are often spending inordinate amounts of time resolving problems. A successful supervisor must look for other rewards to fuel their sense of accomplishment or success. Often times success for mid and upper level managers is evaluated in numbers and not nearly as much about personal interactions.</p>
<p class="p1">It is important for a new supervisor to expand and embrace additional methods of measuring personal success and perhaps finding new methods of rewarding success. </p>
<p class="p1">It’s lonely at the top.</p>
<p class="p1">There is some truth that that old saying. This is especially true when an internal promotion results in the supervision of peers. Suddenly the new supervisor is no longer a true peer and as such there maybe a host of issues to work through. This may include resentment or jealousy, favoritism, recognizing or failing to recognize new responsibilities, accountability and authority. Old relationship maybe strained or may create undue stress.</p>
<p class="p1">Consequently it is helpful to identify new parallel management peers either within the agency and with similar positions in other organizations. It is also very important to look for new mentors who can share insight and motivation especially in challenging times. </p>
<p class="p1">Generally speaking, I have found that there are many people involved with conservation, education and interpretation who are much more cause driven than ego driven. It is ok to want personal success but in the long run many of us are promoting ideas and values for issues and beliefs that much greater than any individual agenda. </p>
<p class="p1">Before becoming consumed with “climbing the ladder” and pursuing a supervisory position, ask yourself if you are good at what you do, are you happy with what you are doing and finally if you are committed so deeply to what you are doing to leave the present behind in order to promote this cause from a position that may take you away from doing what you love. </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033752017-10-26T20:00:00-04:002017-10-27T04:22:08-04:00Open Spaces and Public Lands
<p>All across Ohio and all across the nation people enjoy public lands and National Public Lands Day is celebrated the last weekend of September. </p>
<p class="p1">I enjoyed a 36 year career working in parks and recreation and was privileged to have served as the executive director for Geauga Park District, Lake Metroparks and Toledo Metroparks. I have seen first hand how people use and enjoy public lands. They come for recreational pursuits, to recover from the stress of day to day life, to receive inspiration, to celebrate love and build relationships and even morn and recover from loss. There is an increasing body of research that illustrates the health and mental benefits associated with outdoor experiences. Time out of doors can also create unique memories and help develop an appreciation for the natural resources and wonders associated with where we live, our state and our great nation. </p>
<p class="p1">As a avid outdoorsman my family and I have enjoyed hiking, camping, hunting and fishing across Ohio and several states. These experiences have shaped my character and developed and refined my values and created strong bonds within our family.</p>
<p class="p1">As a professional I have been involved with numerous local and regional public surveys and reviewed hundreds of other state and national surveys. I have read and studied countless articles on the economic impacts of open space and their associated cultural and social values. </p>
<p class="p2">The protection of open space and natural areas is important to Ohioans and people across the United States. </p>
<p class="p4">Public lands are our shared legacy where all Americans can recreate on millions of acres that conserve landscapes and waters home to incredible fish and wildlife populations, important historic and archaeological treasures and stunning scenery. In Ohio, large municipal parks, regional parks like Metroparks and our system of State Parks, Natural Areas, Forests and Wildlife Areas are all incredibly important and highly utilized. Ohioans also enjoy Cuyahoga National Park, Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge and Wayne National Forest which are managed by the federal government. These are all treasured areas enjoyed by millions of visitors each year.</p>
<p class="p4">Public lands in the Buckeye State improve quality of life for millions of Ohioans who annually enjoy hunting, fishing, hiking, biking, camping, wildlife viewing, nature photography, bird watching, quiet time and serenity. </p>
<p class="p4">According to a 2017 outdoor recreation survey by the Ohio Department of Natural Resources trail activities are so popular that adding trails is a top request across all demographics and canoeing and kayaking are growing in popularity. </p>
<p class="p4">It is also widely understood and appreciated that natural areas provide ecological services contributing to the protection of water and air quality and provide essential habitat for all manner of wildlife and unique plant communities. </p>
<p class="p4">Public lands also drive a powerful economic engine known as outdoor recreation, generating 215,000 jobs in Ohio. According to the Outdoor Industry Association annual consumer spending is estimated at $24.3 billion. In addition there is an estimated $7.0 billion in payroll and $1.5 billion in state and local taxes. Nationally, outdoor recreation drives $887 billion in consumer spending annually and employs 7.6 million people.</p>
<p class="p5">Unfortunately there are some people who want to sell public lands to private owners or allow damaging commercial or industrial development on them.</p>
<p class="p4">Current recommendations for increased mining and drilling on public lands are being considered along with a proposal to shrink boundaries of ten national monuments. These considerations ignore or dismiss the feedback of more than 2.8 million public comments submitted to the Department of Interior on the matter. The vast majority of which were in favor of keeping national monuments intact.</p>
<p class="p4">Public lands and waterways are for all of us. We shouldn't sell, shrink, or damage them. We should continue to invest in them.</p>
<p class="p4">The federal government should follow the State of Ohio’s example in protecting public access to outdoor spaces. Ohio is in discussions with American Electric Power to purchase a major portion of the company’s 60,000-acre ReCreation Land property in eastern Ohio. Governor Kasich called this opportunity to acquire a large expanse for public recreation “rare” and noted it could provide greater outdoor opportunities for “Ohioans and out-of-state visitors who are drawn to our great state parks, forests, nature preserves and wildlife areas.”</p>
<p class="p4">So in honor of National Public Lands Day go out and enjoy our public lands and waterways. While we’re there, let’s pick up some trash or volunteer to maintain a trail, or remove an invasive species. We should also encourage our elected officials to respect the public’s will, do what’s best for our country and keep public lands protections intact.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033742017-05-16T20:00:00-04:002017-05-17T14:11:22-04:00The Demise of an Oak Tree
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/aa4cfd8fa4c326257ee2712517b209672431d827/original/long-view.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDgweDY0MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="640" width="480" /></p>
<p>The Demise of a Oak Tree:</p>
<p class="p1">After four days of gentle rain a giant oak tree tipped over. For well over a hundred years it had grown of the side of the creek valley. Ironically it's health and growth led to its ultimate demise as the weight of the tree exceeded the ability of the roots and soil to support it. It is spring time and the tree was adorned with chartreuse pollen covered florets. Young leaves were beginning to unfold and maybe the additional burden of the new growth combined with the saturated soil proved too much for the rocky hillside to bear.</p>
<p class="p1">I was out walking another wood looking for morels when MJ called. She explained the quiver in her voice and said her heart was racing due to the house jarring impact that occurred when the giant tree came down. It smashed through an 18 inch black walnut breaking it off about three feet above the ground. It tore through two sugar maples and smashed a host of smaller trees. The top fell across the trail to the barn onto a bed of mixed hostas and ferns. It left the trail covered with a mat of oak pollen and florets. </p>
<p class="p2">When I got home I inspected the mass of plant material that lay in a twisted jumble. The limbs went thirty or more feet into the air and busted and bent saplings were pointing in every direction. Broken sections of tree limbs were laying on the roof of the house a good 100 feet away.</p>
<p class="p1">While walking back to go inside I flushed a mallard off of a nest she had built in amongst the ferns. Her nest was right outside of the fall zone. She was lucky that the tree missed her. In spite of her good fortune I knew it was highly likely her nest would be discovered and raided by the diligent prowling raccoons that are constantly moving up and down the valley.</p>
<p class="p2">Since we moved back to the creek house in October, I have been working on the house and the property resuming or completing old projects and restoring or repairing things that deteriorated while we were living in Toledo. Entropy is an amazing force and things fall apart. Simple and ongoing maintenance is so important and this is readily apparent after being gone a few years. </p>
<p class="p2">I've been spending considerable time thinking about this as I have been going about my tasks realizing that I have to look at this work as recreational activity. I am not doing it to survive or to enhance the value of this property. Some projects are things that need to be completed before something gets worse but many are things that will enhance or enable me to do something else that I want to do. And being gone for just four and a half years has illustrated that I am not building some sort of lasting physical legacy here. All of this built infrastructure will ultimately pass just like the blast furnace that used to be across the creek. I remember a conversation that I had with my old friend Vance along time ago about how all things are transitory. And seemingly to prove the point this giant tree tipped over. </p>
<p class="p2">It makes me melancholy to think about the tree falling over, getting cut and piled up by a bulldozer but it was a spectacular tree and it would have been a shame to simply let the wood rot. So I called an acquaintance who buys timber. The loggers are taking the tree apart as I write this piece. </p>
<p class="p1">This living thing had survived for well over a century and in spite of its grandeur was still simply a part of a continuum. It produced tons of acorns and probably has dozens of seedlings and saplings growing on the hillside. They will undoubtedly respond to the additional sunlight that will shine through the new hole in the tree canopy so in some regard there is a living legacy to this tree. </p>
<p class="p1">Some of the wood will go to lumber that will be used for flooring and probably furniture and I hope that occasionally someone will consider how beautiful the wood is. The smaller limbs will be cut for firewood and burned in the barn and the branches will be chipped for mulch to enhance our yard and gardens. </p>
<p class="p1">Humanity has the ability to some degree capture or create history, recording moments and events from the past. Yet on a personal and often a societal level we have the tendency to look at the world from the perspective of one lifetime. A lifetime a remarkably brief period especially when compared to the life of an oak tree. I suppose our perspective encourages us to value and pursue things that are indeed transitory and in the grand scheme of things meaningless. Perhaps this is why it is difficult to enjoy the richness of a moment while pursuing the folly of some temporary gain. </p>
<p class="p1">I am working to adjust my thinking to enjoy what I am doing for the action that it is as opposed to anticipation of what the action might bring. Consequently I am finding a certain joy in doing them. This outlook is much healthier than feeling the drudgery of a backlog of projects or the stress of missed schedules. These tasks that I work on here in the valley are indeed transitory and I can't change that but I can change how I approach each day for like the oak tree someday I’m going to tip over.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033732017-05-02T20:00:00-04:002017-05-03T02:33:49-04:00Great Expectations
<p><img src="http://www.madewellmusic.com/img/image1.jpeg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="640" width="480" /></p>
<p>Great Expectations:<br>My bee boxes were empty this winter. Both colonies bolted, as in the bees left. I suspect this occurred in September. I was very consumed with wrapping things up in Toledo and didn't have time to get back to the creek house and check on them at the end of the summer. Long story short, I ordered some more bees this spring. Two, three pound packages. One for the back yard and one for my brother-in-law's farm. <br>It is always a trip to transfer a package of bees into a hive. There is something that is very counter intuitive to opening up a container full of thousands of stinging insects and dumping them out. Mixed with this base, primal emotion there is a high level of attentiveness and care to do this adroitly and this is all tempered with the great expectation of a honey yield to follow.</p>
<p>Since last year's bees bolted they left a great deal of honey and I will be using this to help the new bees get established. These bees are enjoying the privilege of not only having honey in the hive when they arrived but they are also setting up residence in hives that have established comb. Creating or building comb takes time are energy so having frames with existing comb is a tremendous asset for a colony. Consequently it is certainly feasible that there could be enough surplus honey to warrant a harvest this fall.</p>
<p>I also picked up a bee gum this spring. That is a traditional term for a bee hive that is situated in a hollow tree or log. Phil and his crew were working on some trees in Madison and they dropped a big cherry that had a hive in it. The fellows cut the log into a manageable section and we got it loaded into my truck. Back at the house I was able to get the log out of the pickup with the little tractor and end loader. With a little bit of pushing and shoving I got it situated on a couple cinder blocks behind the barn. Cool!</p>
<p>There isn't that much room in the log and I am hoping that this colony will thrive. If they do well, they will certainly swarm several times this summer. If I keep an eye on them and I am lucky I might be able to catch a couple swarms and get them established in my commercial hives.<br>Yet another great expectation.</p>
<p>When I was driving back from picking up the packaged bees I witnessed something that I will surely never see again and I hope I will always remember when I reflect on my aspirations and expectations.</p>
<p>I was driving north and on the west side of the road was a hay field, on the east was a block of mature trees. A pair of geese were grazing in the field and a red-tailed hawk came floating out of the woods clearly on a stoop toward the goose that was closest to the road. Both geese flushed but the hawk was on a perfect Intercepting vector. At the last minute the target goose folded its' wings, turned sideways in the air and literally dropped like a rock. The hawk overshot its intended prey and continued flying aimlessly along as the other goose was well on its way to a safe escape.</p>
<p>This was a remarkable thing to witness. First, the evasive maneuver was simply mind boggling. The goose just collapsed in the air and fell. Second, I couldn't believe I saw a red-tail hawk attempt to take a goose! Talk about great expectations! Geese are big birds. And finally I have to wonder what would have happened if indeed the hawk would have grabbed the goose? Geese are not only big but they are tough birds. I have to assume that a goose would severely beat a red-tail up. The expectations I have for my bees have nowhere near the dire consequences of life or injury as those that could have unfolded if the hawk would have realized his mark. I suppose the moral of the story is some time it just might be best if our expectations are not realized.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033722017-04-26T20:00:00-04:002017-04-27T03:16:51-04:00"Some Old Dusty Woods"
<p> </p>
<p class="p1">Some Dusty Woods:</p>
<p class="p1">Being back at the Creek House for the past 6 months has certainly illustrated some of the benefits of the loft condo living. When you leave, you lock the door walk away and forget about it, no sump pumps, down trees, plugged driveway culverts, nothing like that.</p>
<p class="p1">But we are back, living in "Some Old Dusty Woods”. Which happens to be one of my favorite Greg Brown songs. (Lyrics posted below) </p>
<p class="p1">Last night I was on a step stool killing dozens of some kind of beetle on the living room ceiling. Obviously one of the window screens has a crack, or maybe one of the doors. This past week I have been waging war on carpenter ants, carpenter bees and wasps. </p>
<p class="p1">And my little woodlot has been invaded by a spreading force of invasive plants: Japanese knot weed, two types of honey suckle, multiflora rose, English ivy, periwinkle and several others.</p>
<p class="p1">I have enjoyed engaging in the war but I know that ultimately all of my actions and efforts are transitory which helps to remind me not to take this too seriously. It is in effect recreation. These things are not essential to my survival but engaging in these endeavors are indeed part of the human condition. </p>
<p class="p2">Entropy is a crazy thing. After being not living here for four and a half years the amount of small repair and replacement is staggering. And the large projects I left behind seem even bigger. </p>
<p class="p1">It is really overwhelming what to do in any sort of order, so I just do whatever happens to strike me as important or what seems essential to do in order to do the next thing. </p>
<p class="p1">So there is tractor work, planting bed restoration, rock wall landscaping, pavers work, lots of chainsaw and fire wood and tree work and the creation and management of storage and order. </p>
<p class="p1">And then there is music and outdoor pursuits.</p>
<p class="p1">Excuse me but I’ve got to go play guitar for a bit. </p>
<p class="p3"><strong>Dusty Woods</strong></p>
<p class="p4">Greg Brown Slant 6 Mind</p>
<p class="p4">(a vision of Robert Johnson)</p>
<p class="p4">He's riding in the back of a wagon and his city choes are dragging</p>
<p class="p4">and the sweat is pouring down his back</p>
<p class="p4">One eye west and one eye south</p>
<p class="p4">Two words fall out his mouth</p>
<p class="p4">He jumps down, waves, walks across the railroad track</p>
<p class="p5"> </p>
<p class="p4">He's in some dusty woods outside of town</p>
<p class="p5"> </p>
<p class="p4">Got a piece of paper folded in four, a stub pencil from the hardware store,</p>
<p class="p4">and a guitar that looks like it's been used</p>
<p class="p4">The birds shut down their song</p>
<p class="p4">He can't stay too long</p>
<p class="p4">There's something up ahead he's just got to do</p>
<p class="p5"> </p>
<p class="p4">He licks the pencil, looks around, writes a few words down,</p>
<p class="p4">and pulls a moan from his guitar</p>
<p class="p4">A hound dog answers low and he stands up real slow</p>
<p class="p4">He's got a ways to go, he don't know how far</p>
<p class="p5"> </p>
<p class="p4">He's in some dusty woods outside of town.</p>
<p class="p6"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_w4Sp2o3hg" data-imported="1">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_w4Sp2o3hg</a></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033702016-11-13T19:00:00-05:002016-11-14T14:11:12-05:00Leave the Light On
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/fb6fc4c867cdd8cff024a3096b1e1415d8d3f400/original/emoon.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzIyeDI4MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="280" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="322" /></p>
<p class="p1">Pedestrian Ramblings: </p>
<p class="p1">Took a shot with the phone of the super moon through the trees, over Big Creek. There was a fair about of cloud covers so there was a hazy image to begin with.</p>
<p class="p2">I am going into my second month of “retirement” from the pubic sector. I believe that October was the first month in 35 years or so I haven’t gone to a park board meeting and that was pretty nice.</p>
<p class="p2">The past few weeks however have been a ride!</p>
<p class="p2">Moving is always an adventure and the move back to NEO was just that. Evidently I cracked a tooth somewhere along the way and have had quite the run with antibiotics and several folks involved with the dental profession. </p>
<p class="p1">Happy to report that I am going the right direction, and now that I have lost that tooth, you should hear a marked improvement in the tonality of my blues singing. I was thinking “A Mouth Full of Trouble” would make a great theme for a blues tune!</p>
<p class="p1">Maybe because of this transition period in my life I have just been enamored with Chris Smither and his tune “Leave the Light On. </p>
<p class="p1">Whatever the reason, it is a great song and Chris is a wonderful musician and song writer! </p>
<p class="p1"></p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="350" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/THQO-JLjMnA" width="425" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033692016-07-02T20:00:00-04:002016-07-03T02:56:37-04:00July 3
<p>Summer Abundance </p>
<p>I'm sitting on the porch at the creek house with the occasional whirring sound of humming birds in my ears as they dart to and from the feeders. After a breakfast topped off with biscuits from the oven, fresh honey and Irish butter I am nearly in a coma. The roar of the 17 year cicadas has finally began to deminish and the tree branches where they have deposited there eggs have browned. Other than that all of the vegitation is lush and green with the occassion patch of summer blossoms or early seed heads. </p>
<p>Yesterday was the first day of a 10 day vacation and it was a big day. It with a 7:30 am stop by the Toledo Farmers market to buy blueberries and sweet cherries grown by some friends in Michigan then across state to the NEO winery region. At 12:00 I was performing at the Firehouse with the Next Best Thing. Behinds us we had the spectacular blue sky, blue water backdrop of the Lake Erie Central Basin. Got done at 4:00 and bolted over to Kosicek Winery for a second show and there was a smile on my face when I hit the bed. </p>
<p>Although it has been extremely dry across the northern half of Ohio the temperature has been nearly perfect for the past few weeks with exceptional blue sky and remarkable sunsets.</p>
<p>Life is good here.</p>
<p>Before breakfast I was playing around with a Doc Watson inspired version of Columbus Stockade Blues. This is a great old traditional tune that is often thought of as a bluegrass song. Doc recorded it in a minor scale that is really engaging and with a little tinkering I came up with a suitable arrangement for me. My mom and Aunt Pearl used to sing this and this has always been one of my favorite songs. I am looking forward to performing this version.</p>
<p>https://www.google.com/search?q=doc+watson+columbus+stockade+blues&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-us&client=safari </p>
<p>As I was driving over from Toledo yesterday I happen to listen to Rod Stewards Maggie May which always brings back a host of memories from when I first heard that song. I was in the 8th grade. For the first time I started to think about what was going on in England in the early '70s to inspire his album Every Picture Tells a story. Mandolin's were not a common instrument in popular music at that time and is featured in both Maggie May and Mandolin Wind. </p>
<p>Brits are often credited with re introducing American's to US blues, fascinating the think they might have played a role in re introducing this instrument into American popular music. </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033682011-07-03T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00July 4th On a rock
<p>
</p><p>July 4<sup>th</sup></p>
<p>It is beautiful Ohio summer morning and I have been up for a while.</p>
<p>Got up a bit early to enjoy some quite time and take inventory around the homestead.</p>
<p>I played at Zocalo’s Saturday and the Lake House yesterday which are two completely different gigs so maybe I am up because I trying to reconcile who I am after playing in such different places.</p>
<p>Last night was a spectacular evening. The sunset was not dramatic, but the platinum color of the lake more than made up for it. Even the drive was great. It was the first night after the new moon, and there was this tiny crescent in the north west sky.</p>
<p>This morning, I took the time to go sit by the creek on a big granite boulder that was pushed down from Canada by the glaciers. I was looking across the stream at another geologic feature, an anti-cline. That is basically a wave in the bedrock form some distant time in the past when an earthquake or some major disruption caused an upheaval in the earth’s crust.</p>
<p>It is a really cool feature. The cliff is about 60 feet high, and the exposed rock is layered shale. Generally this stuff is stacked up flat layer upon layer but because of the anti-cline there is this very distinctive hump in the layers. Sort of like taking a stack of printer paper and bending it. Only a little more impressive.</p>
<p>The cliff swallows have taken advantage of the situation and built a nest in the seam that formed in the shale. I don’t have a suitable camera to catch them as they fly in and out of their nest, but after my morning musings, I took some pictures anyway.</p>
<p>So whenever I sit on one of these big rocks, I always think about the glacier ride coming down and the force of the water moving it back down the stream-bed. Of course this made me think of Jeff’s song Like A Stone, which make the analogy of human resilience to rock.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfMQ9BYR22A" data-imported="1">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfMQ9BYR22A</a></p>
<font size="4">
<p>
</p>
<p>Human resilience is an amazing thing but it is all so tenuous.</p>
<p>I know several young men who have been deployed in our recent military missions in the mid-east, who are trying so hard to create or hang on to some sort of life and recover from their experiences.</p>
<p>I don’t profess to understand why there can be such evil in our world and why we can’t find a better way of addressing it. But to sense the incredible disruption these young men are living with, and to think about the folks actually living in war torn areas of the world is so deeply disturbing.</p>
<p>So as I sat on my rock surrounded by the beauty of the world around me I couldn’t help but think two things:</p>
<p>Be thankful and grateful for the existence that I have had and to recognize the sacrifices that have been made for me to enjoy the serenity of this morning.</p>
<p>And what can do to help make this world a better place for others to enjoy. I hope that music can be a part of this.</p>
</font>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033672011-02-12T19:00:00-05:002022-01-28T11:05:28-05:00The Loss of Darkness
<p>The loss of darkness</p>
<p>I had to drive to Cincinnati this past week for a work related engagement. I wasn’t able to leave until 6:00 or so and this made for a few hours of driving after sunset.</p>
<p>I would have said several hours of driving after dark, but that really wasn’t the case. We really never drove in the dark.</p>
<p>I am used to the drive down 71 to Columbus but I have rare occasion to continue south on this route. </p>
<p>As we drove past Grove City we could smell the landfill that was designed by a friend of ours Kurt Anderson nearly thirty years ago.</p>
<p>He was a brilliant individual who succumbed to an inherent drive to always push the limits. An excessive use of alcohol, drugs and some ultimate bad luck resulted in an untimely death.</p>
<p>Kurt had received national recognition for his design to capture and reuse the methane gas generated by the landfill. As we drove by I wondered if the smell was the result of the single digit temperatures, a flaw in his design or some failure to maintain the system for cost cutting measures. (Probably the latter)</p>
<p>There is a long stretch of 71 that goes through some exceptional farmland. Land that feels as flat as a board and for all intense and purposes you might think you were in Iowa, so MJ que'd up Greg Brown’s “Iowa” CD as fitting music for this portion of the ride.</p>
<p>Of course historically this land might have had pockets of tall grass prairie, but was predominately forested at the time the first pioneers began their explorations.</p>
<p>It is hard to imagine just what those forests must have been like and about the best way to get any kind of descriptive idea is to look up and read some of the early surveyors journals.</p>
<p>I have read bits and pieces of journals from Israel Ludlow who worked in southwest Ohio and Seth Pease in northeast Ohio. Both of these men recorded what the natural features they saw in addition to simply measuring and monumenting the countryside.</p>
<p>Their observations are simply fascinating.</p>
<p>Ohio had spectacular forests that were cleared to make way for farmland. It was not uncommon for huge tracks of these hardwood forests to be burned over the winter months just to clear the land.</p>
<p>Every kid in school today knows about the loss of the rainforests but few people realize that our predecessors cleared the eastern United States in much the same way.</p>
<p>We were now driving through one of the most productive areas in the country for row crop agriculture on an interstate that had been built through rural, prime agricultural land.</p>
<p>What struck me as we drove along was how many lights there were across the landscape.</p>
<p>It seemed that every farmhouse or out building had a cluster of high output lights. At every exit with a gas station there were a myriad of tall light poles.</p>
<p>The amount of light pollution was really disheartening. I suppose as a culture we have been conditioned to be afraid of the dark.</p>
<p>That is all I can think of. Why else would someone in rural America hang high output lights off of every building?</p>
<p>The opportunity to enjoy the night sky is becoming increasingly difficult to find.</p>
<p>When I was growing up in southwestern Ohio, one of my most engaging winter time actives was looking up at the night sky and taking in an overwhelming display of stars and planets.</p>
<p>It made me sad to observe this as we drove along and to think of the simple enjoyment that we are denying ourselves as a culture.</p>
<p>The dark is as much a part of the day as the light is. It seems strange that we would choose to not enjoy the benefits of each.</p>
<p>Currently we have the privilege of living in a very lovely location and I have often marveled when a new neighbor moves in or builds a new house on our street what they choose to illuminate. Sometime it is the length of their driveway, other times it is the porch, or garage, or outbuildings or in some cases all of the above.</p>
<p>And I wonder why they do this?</p>
<p>If they are afraid to live in a natural setting why did they move here to begin with?</p>
<p>Are we that afraid of the absence of light or are we afraid of what we might see in the darkness?</p>
<p>But I guess it is not to unlike having constant background noise on to perhaps keep us from hearing our own thoughts.</p>
<p>I think we listened to Greg Brown until we reached the hotel.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033662011-01-21T19:00:00-05:002021-12-19T08:28:54-05:00The Acrobatics of Life
<p>
</p><p>Yesterday in the early afternoon, I was driving through the valley, and caught site of a large bird over head. Sure enough it was an eagle, nope there were two eagles!</p>
<p>They were both immature, just beginning to get white on their head and tails, and they were engaged in a mating flight.</p>
<p>Now I don’t know enough about eagles to be sure if this was the real deal and if immatures actually mate or if this was a pseudo mating flight.</p>
<p>Sometimes animals do a sort of pre mating play as juveniles, sort of like teenagers making out. Ideally it’s just practice, if you know what I mean.</p>
<p>Anyway, perhaps you have seen this on nature shows or maybe had the chance to actually watch such a site.</p>
<p>It was an incredible and I pulled the car over and watched for ten minutes or so.</p>
<p>They would circle around over this broad spot in the valley floor, the male was a little smaller and would glide over the female and she would turn upside down. They would grab at each other’s talons as they were falling toward the ground and then disengage and right themselves right above the treetops. Off they would fly, climbing up into the air and repeated this again and again.</p>
<p>To see the female flip and fly upside down and to see the male turn completely sideways and slip down through the air to meet her was simply a spectacular spectacle.</p>
<p>This all was taking place about a quarter mile from my house.</p>
<p>Now you might ask, "Why in the world would I want to move?"</p>
<p>Well that is a good question.</p>
<p>If things progress with the other position, we intend to hang on to this house if we can.</p>
<p>It is a great location and would be a lovely vacation and weekend getaway house.</p>
<p>This might be a pipe dream but then again we’ll sort that out when we get there.</p>
<p>At any rate I have been truly privileged to live for the past 11 years or so in such a cool spot that has generated so many wonderful memories.</p>
<p>I have watched mink hunt in the creek, as well as two big water snakes work together to herd and catch minnows. And no I am not making that up.</p>
<p>I have had red fox sit and look into the back door in the dead of winter as if pondering the possibility of coming in.</p>
<p>I watched a coyote ambush a red fox off the side of the hill. The next morning I examined the remains in nearly the exact spot where I discovered similar fox remains a few years and wondered what had happened. That day I knew.</p>
<p>MJ and I have been entertained by two families, at the same time, of pileated wood peckers enjoying our suet feeders. The adults were feeding their clumsy youngsters who couldn’t negotiate hanging upside down to feed themselves.</p>
<p>And I will never forget watching both eagles and kingfishers hunt steelhead in the creek.</p>
<p>The kingfisher realizing at the last second of his dive he was no match for the big fish and pulling off before hitting the water.</p>
<p>And of course there is the recollection of the early morning hours on the day of the five-hundred year flood, lying in bed with MJ feeling large logs smashing into and shaking the entire house while the little creek was roaring with the extreme volume of water.</p>
<p>So yep this is a special place.</p>
<p>I suppose I too am engaged in the Acrobatics of Life.</p>
<p>I know I am privileged to be here, and fortunate to be considered for yet another position that may allow me to continue to work to protect, enhance and share the benefits of these things that inspire me.</p>
<p>I don't know if this is just practice or will produce, but it's the journey that is life.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033642011-01-08T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00My form of meditative walking.
<p>Friday Night I went out to the Conneaut Creek Club cabin and spent the evening by myself.</p>
<p>Saturday was the opening day of muzzle loading rifle deer season.</p>
<p>The cabin is a rustic Adirondack style, with propane lights and stove, no running water, a barrel wood burning stove, two wonderful porches and many great memories.</p>
<p>I got out there around 8:30 and it was about 15 degrees with ten inches of snow on the ground and it was lightly snowing.</p>
<p>Tomorrow I was intending to walk up a deer, that is slowly and quietly walk through the woods until I either came up on bedded or feeding deer.</p>
<p>With the particular muzzle-loading rifle that I would be using, this would require getting within 80 yards and with the cover and habitat around the cabin, this more than likely would be something like 15 to forty yards.</p>
<p>In order to pull this off, the big deal is moving extremely slow. All the old hunting books I used to read when I was a kid called this still-hunting. I never understood why the authors would use this term and not stick with using “stalking” as the common descriptor.</p>
<p>As I got older and realized what was involved, I began to get it.</p>
<p>To really do this right you are moving through the woods while being as still as you can.</p>
<p>I was taking a Thai Chi class a few years ago when the instructor introduced me to meditative walking.</p>
<p>It is a process where you consciously transfer weight through your body from one leg up through your hips then down to the other as you walk in a slow determined way.</p>
<p>I recognized instantly this was an excellent method of mental training for still-hunting.</p>
<p>That fall I tried it and what I observed was pretty remarkable.</p>
<p>I consider my self to be fairly observant when I am “on my game, in myself, in the moment” or whatever you call it going through the woods.</p>
<p>I have noticed that generally when I am going through the woods, I will occasionally see squirrels out 60 yards or so moving away from me, and song-birds occasional twittering in front of me maybe twenty yards more or less.</p>
<p>When I tried the meditative walking approach, I found that I was often moving through the fall woods with a small mixed flock of chickadees, junco’s and titmice immediately around me and I would seeing squirrels moving in front of me maybe ten to fifteen yards.</p>
<p>So needless to say, this is an excellent method of moving through the forest with hunting intentions.</p>
<p>One other dimension to this approach to moving is the incredible mental focus it takes. The easy and regular thing to do is revert back to normal “walking” in addition there is an substantial amount of focus required for deer hunting anyway.</p>
<p> So I was planning on going out alone and walking up a deer.</p>
<p>It had been a long time since I had used the CCC cabin as a personal retreat. Most outings over the years had been with a number of family or friends, which of course were great in there own right, but being by myself was a little different.</p>
<p>I needed a little solitude to strip away the layers of mental chatter that have been building for the past several months.</p>
<p>I had a great time dealing with the simple challenge of getting a fire going with no kindling, making a pot of tea, getting my muzzle loading stuff together, which is an interesting task unto it own. </p>
<p>In spite of great technological advances, these guns are still primitive weapons. To load one, you take an amount of carefully measured gunpowder, pour it down the barrel of the gun, tamp that in place then push a bullet down the barrel and tamp that into place.</p>
<p>At the other end of the barrel, there is a small opening where the a spark will flash from a primer or cap. Ideally this will happen when the trigger is pulled, igniting the powder causing a contain explosion pushing the bullet out and toward the target.</p>
<p>Before bed I got my muzzle loading stuff out, checked over and loaded into appropriate pockets located on the exterior of my hunting clothing.</p>
<p>In the morning I set off about forty-five minutes before sunrise in the 8 degree morning air.</p>
<p>After a executing a slow circuitous ¾ of a mile route down the valley, through the hemlock thickets, across the oak flats and skirting the grapevine tangles I was back at the cabin for a cup of tea and a bit of lunch.</p>
<p>Snow was still falling off and on but in brief periods it was nearly white out conditions. After my morning hike I assumed the deer would be lying under the hemlocks and out of the weather. My challenge would be approaching them in a manner to get close enough to get a clear shot.</p>
<p>My afternoon, mosey began would be on the other side of the cabin.</p>
<p>I immediately saw where deer had been pawing through the snow to get to grass on the dam of the pond and had more than likely bedded up in the hemlocks on the point of a keen ridge overlooking the Conneaut Creek Valley.</p>
<p>This is a great nearly fail safe bedding strategy, if any threat is coming they merely stand up and bound down the 45-60 degree one hundred plus foot descent down in the valley.</p>
<p>So how I approached the hemlock thickets was very important if I expected to get a shot.</p>
<p>I figured that this deer were probably conditioned to watching for people coming from the pond so I decided I would approach them from the edge of the valley ridge as best as I could.</p>
<p>I put up the first two deer in a few minutes. I had walked to within twenty yards of two lying under the hemlocks, and we saw each other at about the same time and they made their move as I was making mine and no shot was fired.</p>
<p>In a short distance in the same thicket I walked up on another lying behind a log. The deer jumped up when I was about 15 yards away and started to go over into the valley but the wall was too steep, nearly vertical and instead was force to turn and come straight toward me.</p>
<p>I pulled up, aimed, pulled the trigger, the hammer fell and the percussion cap didn’t ignite. Evidently moisture from the heavy snow had dampened the cap.</p>
<p>The deer turned within a few feet of me and bounded away.</p>
<p>And out of the day I had gotten everything that I had needed, several hours solitude, emersion in the elements, several hours of meditative walking, and incredible rush of adrenalin in the thrill of the moment. </p>
<p>There have been reasons why I haven't posted any Pedestrian Ramblings and it hasn't had anything to do with an absence of events happening, inspirations coming etc., it has had more to do with being entirely consumed with existing day to day and not having the space to capture inspirations when they come.</p>
<p>This was a great inspirational moment, reminding me I am still who I am and still able to interact in the many dimsions of the world around me. </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033652011-01-01T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00A New Year Juxtaposition
<p>This weekend I enjoyed watching the creek thaw.</p>
<p>We had snow on the ground since the first of December and several weeks of below freezing temperatures.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When it heated up to the mid fifties something had to give.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is very fascinating to watch the creek release, just like it is very cool to watch it freeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the melt waters start flowing over the frozen surface of the creek it may be a matter of minutes or days before the ice breaks up but once it starts to release it happens very quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And the ice begins to move and break and the force of the water breaks it apart into smaller and smaller pieces.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the ice gets carried down stream it sometimes gets caught up and this is the beginning of an ice dam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Friday I watched several ice dams form and break apart. It is mesmerizing to watch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In witnessing this, it reminded me that I haven’t taken much time to see the world around me consequently I have suffered for it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is easy to forget how much clutter we allow in our schedule and into our mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is also easy to forget how much I enjoy taking time to stop and just see things, to find the essence of what I do and to live what I am doing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And I suppose this is my New Years Resolution.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stop and do more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A wonderful juxtaposition.</p>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033002010-09-01T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00I got youtubed at the Beachland gig
<p>August 10 there was a very talented young lady passing through Cleveland, Emily Erin.
She was hoping to pick up a gig at the Beachland Ballroom on her way back to New York.
One of my buds Dan Best with the Swamp Rattlers called and asked if I would do a set to round out the evening with Emily and I did.
There was a fellow there who flip filmed the show and this version of me doing Stan Rogers' Mary Ellen Carter wound up on Youtube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ev-Bbnlt7TQ
This has always been one of my favorites.
I first heard his work perfomred by a dear friend in Dayton, Dave Gordon.
He and his wife Kay did several of Stan's tunes, including Barrettes Privateers. Unfortunately I never knew who wrote the songs.
When I moved to NE Ohio, a friend used to tell me I should do some Stan Rogers.
Roland would go on and on about how great Stans tunes were and how much he would appreciate it if I learned a few.
One day I heard Barrett's Privateers blarring out of my son Phil's room, and I instantly recognized the song from years ago when I used to live in Dayton.
I went charging in there asking who was singing, and Phil told me Stan Rogers.
Interestingly Roland and Dave had both passed away
by the time I learned who Stan Rogers was and before I learned any of his songs.
I think of them both whenever I play any of his material.
very nice</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61032992010-07-28T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Post Burning River Fest
<p>I just took a day off of work.
Yes it was an “Honest to God†day off. Well after I went in for two hours. But still I bought and installed a bike rack went to a movie. So I think this day counts as personal time.
Whoa, don’t get too crazy.
It has been a blitzkrieg of a year and I really haven’t had much time to do any thing beyond taking one step at a time. That being said there have been some very good moments so far this summer.
Although I didn’t have time to do any promotion this year I have had several gigs at venues that I have always enjoyed. They either called me or held dates for me including the Lake House, the Old Fire House, several house concerts and that sort of thing.
One of the most enjoyable was a return to the Burning River Fest. This worked out great as a gang from Western College of Miami came into town and we all had a big time of it, including the after party gig at Zocalo’s on east fourth.
Big fun had by all and I am still recovering.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61032982010-06-25T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Whoo Boy
<p>Let's see,
Work has been exceptionally busy.
Gigs have been a great diversion and great fun.
Eating some watermelon after the first Zocalo's gig and having an adult beverage.
Life is good.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033632010-03-03T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Cefalo's What a great venue!
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/a788e8cc25bc64f1ebd2e9530f6d1e06e7a5737f/original/sara.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MTgweDI0MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Sara.jpg" height="240" width="180" /></p>
<p>March 2nd, MJ and I drove down to the Pittsburg area to do a show with Tom Breiding and Sara Mcquaid.</p>
<p>I met Tom last year at the Barking Spider where I was doing the early show with Bruce the Bassman.</p>
<p>Tom invited me to open up for Sara Mcquaid and after listening to Tom's show I was sure I wanted to do it.</p>
<p>I was certainly glad I did.</p>
<p>Not only did Tom treat us to dinner he also turned us on to a great music place, Cefalo's!</p>
<p>Cefalo's is old Church that has been converted into a wonderful space for music and dinner.</p>
<p>To top it off Sara was wonderful.</p>
<p>While the crowd was a little light, everyone had a great time.</p>
<p><img src="http://www.madewellmusic.com/images/Tom_and_Adrea_Pearl.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Tom_and_Adrea_Pearl.jpg" height="240" width="180" /></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033622010-02-19T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00NYC
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/370f15ced8ee6886e8a786174e7ceb99079f39de/original/steve-and-steph-in-central-park.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDAweDMwMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Steve_and_Steph_in_Central_Park.jpg" height="300" style="vertical-align: middle;" width="400" /></p>
<p>Had great time in New York City a few weeks back.</p>
<p>In addition to seeing Stephanie and Sean in there new digs and having lunch with my old college roomie, Sean and I went knocking around one day.</p>
<p>We were able to take in Chelsea guitars where a couple snobbish kids reminded me that all the guitars hanging on the walls were expensive. So much for buying that '63 rosewood neck sunburst strat to replace the one I used to have from those guys. However I did discover the mose wonderful Music Inn right in the village. What a sweet store.</p>
<p>Reminded me of my mind. Cluttered up with all sorts of things... Items with great potential, some clearly broken, and some that I have no idea what they are or might be. The guys that were working down the basement have been building electric sarods, which are very cool fretless mideastern instruments.</p>
<p>They also had a very cool software package that they had developed to bring out all of the overtones and sympathic scales. And if that isn't enough they had a huge collection of singing bowls and all sorts of hand percussion stuff. It is on the return to NYC to do list. All and all the city was wonderfully vibrant and full of good energy.</p>
<p>I'm in.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033612010-02-18T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00How does Steve keep toasty while checking his squirrel traps!
<p>Actually my flying squirrel trapping was all confined to the barn attic so there isn’t much involved there in keeping warm other than poking up the stove.
And if you don't know what I am talking about you should sign up for my emails!
I have a fair number of people ask me about how I keep warm while I am poking about outside, so here we go.
I put together just a few observations that might be handy if keeping warm in the winter is an issue for you and if not…. Well gee I don’t expect you’ll get much out of this.
In January I was deer hunting and it was 11 below zero.
It wasn’t that cold when I left my house but by golly it was when I got to where I was going.
I have to admit I wasn’t properly prepared and it was not only close to miserable but could have easily been dangerous.
I was generally OK except I didn’t have proper hand and face protection, which can be a big deal when it comes to little things like frost bite and comfort.
I should have had a heavier hat, face mask or scarf and a heavy set of mittens or multilayered gloves. I actually did have those things nicely stored in a backpack in my brother in laws’ truck…
Good move.
Compared to most folks I spend a considerable amount of time outdoors and when I am out often times it is in fairly extreme conditions.
Consider the situation I mentioned above or things like steelhead fishing, which involves standing around in cold moving water between the months of October and April. Not so bad in October and April, it’s those time in the middle!
Anyhow my dear friend Lisa was one of the several folks who I have shared some “how to keep warm advice†with this year and I thought why not just put something on the page about it.
Lisa was specifically asking about keeping her hands warm, and doing so in a practical and cost effective manner.
When ever possible I am all about practicality and cost.
I am a big fan of wool glove liners. You can buy these at army navy surplus stores and by their selves they do have utility but put them inside a larger glove as a shell and you are on to something.
The liners are really in expensive and any leather or canvass/leather work glove will work as a shell.
Of course there are all manner of shell/liner combinations available if you don’t mind plunking down the cash to buy them and some work better than others, but it is hard to beat the above for cost and effectiveness.
You can also cut the fingertips out of this wool liner and make in expensive fingerless gloves too and for fishing this is pretty handy.
Again there are all manner of fishing gloves available but if your looking to go on the cheap those wool liners are great.
I am not going to get into the “how this stuff works†unless you email me and really want to know but here goes the rest of the way I get ready for the out of doors.
Base Layers
Most people are aware of the notion of layering clothing but not everybody really gets it.
One of the most important components of my winter wardrobe is my base layer, and when I say winter I mean late fall through mid spring.
It is a rare day during this period that I do not have on Patagonia Capilene tops and bottoms.
The Cap 1 or what they used to call silk weight is simply great. While the newer stuff isn’t as slinky as the original silk weights it is still really nice.
It is not cheap but what a difference it makes.
There are a number of companies making light weight base layers and often times you can find this stuff at discount outlets like Marshalls.
The key is to start thin and get bulkier then add a shell.
So it all starts with a silky base layer as the foundation (and that includes liner socks too) and after that I get bulky.
Fleece
God what did we do before fleece?
I wear fleece all the time. And there are all kinds of fleece out there. What I have discovered is if you have good base layer, even inexpensive fleece is greatly enhanced.
It is not worth a darn in the wind unless like some of the higher end fleece it incorporates a windproof inner layer. Most fleece have doesn’t have wind guard and that is why an outer shell is very important.
When I am steelhead fishing I generally have a layer of fleece, pants and pull over, over my capilene. I have on waders as a shell and a short rain jacket as an upper shell.
If I am hunting I generally have wool or heavy canvass pants on over my capilene bottoms and they serve as a shell.
And my upper shell depends entirely on what kind of hunting I am doing.
If I am sitting still and it is really cold I use a muti-layer parka that basically consists of a big wind and waterproof shell over a down parka.
If it isn’t that cold or I am going to be walking a fair amount I have a water and wind resistant shell that goes over a fleece of work shirt.
Boots….
That is another story.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033042010-01-02T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Time Passages
<p>Time Passages.
People mark the passage of time in a number of different ways, birthdays, seasons and holidays and of course the beginning of a new calendar year.
Happy New Year by the way.
The first time I went deer hunting I was 13.
Pop and Uncle Marvin had been going to the border of Pike and Jackson counties for a couple years and they decided that my cousin Keith and I were old enough to come along.
We borrowed someone’s camper and had a great time. And so that adventure began and believe me there are more that a few hilarious stories associated with some of those trips.
The first few years that I went I was surely a hindrance to Pop’s hunting. He had to keep an eye on me making sure I didn’t get “turned around in the woodsâ€Â, which is the Madewell term for slightly lost.
He was generally concerned about me keeping warm, dry and having enough to eat.
You can go on a hunting trip with someone but it is not the same as hunting with someone. Hunting with someone is a partnership.
In my early years in the field I didn’t have a clue what this really meant but I am sure that I really wasn’t much of a partner.
As time progressed I became surer of myself in the deer woods as I also began to physically mature finding strength and confidence and all those attributes that often come with young adulthood.
Somehow there was a passage of time and suddenly I found myself keeping an eye on Pop.
He was slowing down a bit and I found myself doing more and more of the simple things around our camp like lighting a Coleman lantern because he couldn’t see the hole to put the match in. But I would also slow myself down to keep pace with him while we were hunting.
Of course on occasions this was more than a bit frustrating and I was oblivious to the fact that just a few years earlier the roles were reversed and it was he that was altering his preferred hunting plans to accommodate my abilities.
As time continues to pass I can say that all and all Pop and I have had many good hunting trips with countless memories and a sea of faces of relatives and friends that have jointed us somewhere along the way.
This included my son and son in law and nephew who are all fine hunters and strong young men.
It was always a great pleasure to tell them to help their Grandpa drag his deer back to camp.
This was the first year Dad didn’t go deer hunting in 42 years. Some family concerns and sever arthritis in his right hand convinced him that he should stay close to Mom.
But this wasn’t the only mile marker that occurred this year.
My son Phil is at the point where he is physically in the prime of his life is an avid hunter and has a remarkable set of shooting skills.
This deer season Philip passed up a shot at a huge buck and allowed the deer to walk past him to come to me.
The long story short is I missed it.
For many years I enjoyed a reputation of being a deadly shot and have certainly had my share of good fortune in this regard.
However in the past few years shifts in my vision and physical condition have resulted in a world that is not quite a clear and not nearly as steady.
And while it was a remarkable deer that I missed it was an even larger gift that Philip gave acknowledging another passage of time.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033032009-11-14T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Rock Hall hits a winner with Janis Joplin Tribute.
<p>Last night MJ and I went down to the Rock Hall’s “Kozmic Blues: the Life and Music of Janis Joplin†Tribute Concert.
The folks at the Rock Hall hit a homer. I have been to Rock Hall Tribute shows and I can tell you they are a great time.
Last night’s show featured a great line up of performers and some wonderful video clips including a very touching interview with Kristofferson regarding the day he was told about Janet’s death. This coincided with the conclusion of the final mixing from the recording of Bobby McGee.
The whole show was really enjoyable including the sound and production. Nice job Robby!
The house band was great and the guitarist embraced and played with a tremendous array of tones fitting each performer and each representative tune from across Janis’ career.
My appreciation of her art and performance goes back to the late 60’s, so last night was a real treat.
I recall hearing Combination of the 2 and Piece of My Heart on the radio while riding around with my older brothers. And for years did a version of Summer Time that was more inspired by Janis than the musical, and I haven’t even a clue how many times I have sang or backed someone up who was singing Bobby McGee.
For me the highlights of the show were Susan Tedeschi and Carolyn Wonderland.
Both of these ladies are smoking guitarists and delivered wonderful vocal renditions of Joplin’s tunes.
Lucinda Williams closed the show. I have seen her perform before and she consistently makes me feel like she is playing for me in her living room. It was a very personal way to wind up the night.
You can read more about it by going to:
http://www.rockhall.com/janisjoplinamm</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033022009-11-05T19:00:00-05:002022-01-31T10:56:09-05:00The Power of Commitment
<p>The Power of Commitment
So last month I had this business trip to Salt Lake City.
Before I left one of my friends told me under no circumstance should I sign anything if I visited the Visitor Center for the Mormon Church.
I have been to Salt Lake a few times and all I can say is holy smokes talk about sprawl. The entire valley is developed from north to south and east to west.
I couldn’t believe how much it has grown since my first visit. And all the suburban houses have lovely blue grass lawns. Remarkable, especially since the whole place is sitting on a sage prairie or it used to be a sage prairie.
They have a nifty program there where all the homeowners in the new communities get unlimited water for irrigating their lawns for five bucks a month.
Where is that water coming from????
Well it is easy to understand that the far fetched notions about piping water from the great lakes isn’t so far fetch when you see what is going on there.
I did get up to Park City a couple times and even got up to Sundance and drove the alpine loop. Quite spectacular.
Easy to understand why Robert Redford loves the place.
Anyway the big Mormon complex was right across the street from my hotel so Saturday night, we took a stroll around the grounds and the place is spotless. Simply lovely if you happen to go for the manicured lawn and grounds look.
In the visitor center they have all these computer terminal set up and you are invited to punch in your name and check out your geneology. They are noted for all the geneolgy records that they keep there. Well I sat down and started to type in my name etc when an alarm went off in my head….
I had been warned not to sign anything and I thought, Wow this is pretty sneaky. So I stopped myself and got up and continued to look around.
There is a pretty good connection back to Kirtland for the Mormons. Kirtland is where good old Joseph Smith got a lot of insight about how to structure the church and all that sort of thing before being driving out of town when the Mormon bank had some financial difficulties
When I left the VC I stepped inside the Tabernacle where the choir does their gigs.
I must admit the place had pretty sweet acoustics and it was all I could do to stop myself from belting out a few notes just to hear the reverberation.
On my way out the door, this sweet little 70 plus year old lady approached me. She asked if I would be at the concert the following morning. I told her no I would be on a plane back to Cleveland.
She asked if I would like a CD of the choir and I told her I had one already.
She asked which one and I said that it was a collection of Christmas Songs. It seems like we do somewhere, so I didn’t think I was lying.
She said she had several of their River of Promise CD’s and she wanted to give me one.
I really couldn’t say no so I expected her to dig one out of her purse….
Oh no, that wasn’t the program, she pulled out her check book and asked if I could writer my address down and she would send it to me. As I was writing Steve, she leaned over my shoulder and said make sure your address is legible so I can read it.
At that point the alarm went off once again and I knew I had been had.
You see if they can get your address, you become a target for all their young missionaries to come visit you in the future.
In a panic, I put my work address down.
Three days later in the mail a CD arrived along with a DVD about the Mormon faith.
Being the spiritual kinda guy that I am, I placed them both on the desk of a co-worker with a note saying that I had brought them back for his spiritual enlightenment.
I have been told by those in the know that I can expect random visits from young men in ties and white shirts for at least two years.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033012009-09-24T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Playing back home.
<p>I had a great time last night performing at Brukner Nature Center.
Wonderful to see several old friends, get some good hugs and contribute to an enjoyable fall equinox program.
I had never considered a career in the conservation field prior to working at Brukner in the summer of 1976.
I was hired basically to babysit the children of hispanic migrant workers who were passing through picking tomatoes.
I was impressed with the layout and the design of the facility and trails but more importantly I realized that I could do something about things I cared for.
I was motivated to change my major when I went back to Miami to environmental studies.
Brought back many memories!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033602009-08-21T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00August Gets a Bad Wrap
<p><!--StartFragment-->
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">August Gets a Bad Wrap</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I used to fall into the trap that I think many Midwesterners fall into, and that is thinking that August is hot and miserable.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well actually on average July is generally the hottest month of the year in Ohio.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As we enter into the last week of the month there is a little coolness in the air this morning providing just a hint of anticipation for the chilling nights of September.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is a neat time of year, everything that makes seeds have made them, insects are buzzing, the mornings are cool. It's sweet with the decadent ripeness of the summer. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think August gets a bad wrap because we are ready for a change. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I suppose I am looking forward to the fall.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a matter of fact Robin and Linda Williams’ tune October Light off of their Deeper Waters CD just cycled up on itunes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is a great song and really captures that reflective yet anxious feel associated with the change of the season.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It might just be me but it seems there is a great deal of anxiety in the air. Unemplyment, heathcare, teh economy, political unrest......</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And for me I am still juggling the respocibilities of two postions at work, and that is wearing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So much uncertainty makes it easy to flirt with a major emotional funk.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">George Orwell’s horse in Animal Farm just worked harder.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I try not to do that because most of the time I work pretty hard anyway. I tend to go the opposite direction and get sedentary.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of course I still do what I have to do, I.E. work and those sort of essential things but I stop doing the elective things that keep me balanced and engaged.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They just become one more thing to do, and just one more thing to do means yet more on the agenda and yada yada. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So while I fixing my coffee yesterday in the morning I had some avian visitors who were coming to check on me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Many native cultures believe that we as individuals have certain animals associated with us and we may or may not recognize this association.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well for whatever reason I have had over the years a number of encounters with robins that have if nothing else been engaging.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday was one of those moments.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As August starts winding down many birds start flocking up in preparation for their southern journey, and as you would suspect the majority of these birds are first year young.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">While I was making my coffee, a group of three juvenile robins decided that they wanted to check out the grumpy old man on the other side of the window and gradually moved closer and closer until they formed semi circle around the window all watching me watch them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If nothing more it was a pleasant way to start the day but for some reason this simple little encounter somehow motivated me to get up get going.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometime it is the simplest things that can change a perspective.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">these little things are always there it is just a question of looking for and seeing them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or in my situations with the robins, recognizing that they were seeing me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<!--EndFragment-->
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033592009-08-13T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Burning River Fest
<p>Burning River Fest. Last week I was down in Tennessee hanging with my brothers and Mom and Dad.</p>
<p>We had a great time staying at a nice house we least through Center Hill Chalets Center Hill is a large Corp of Engineers lake just outside of Cookeville, which is where my oldest brother and several cousins live.</p>
<p>There were only two houses on the dead end road where we were staying so needless to say it was quiet and a perfect place to strum some tunes on the front porch.</p>
<p>I drove back home on Friday just in time to hook up with a gang of folks I went to college with who were in town for the Burning River Fest.</p>
<p>After 12 hours in the car, I was a little brain dead and tongue tied but still enjoyed myself knocking around in the Foundation room at The House of Blues, recalling a few old times and calling people by the wrong name.</p>
<p>Saturday, I had scored a gig at the Burning River Festival for Caroline and I on the acoustic stage. We were the last set of performer and we were set up on the north side of the old Coast Guard station.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f414749f806a447b6e32238c6db4d10f2c0d385a/original/1404151-height370-width560.jpeg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzUweDIzMyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="1404151_height370_width560.jpeg" height="233" width="350" /></p>
<p>What ever was lacking was certainly made up for in the setting. The sun was setting directly behind and it was very picturesque, not to mention the kick of playing for a number of people who used to equality listen to Caroline and I play in the college days in many musical incarnations.</p>
<p>Of course there were several other surprises too like Gary and Cindy coming up from Akron and Jon coming in from Ithaca. (Which by the way I think I was supposed to give Jon a ride somewhere!) After singing away, without monitors, and over the drone of motorboats and sound bleed from the rock stage, we ventured over to the Velvet Tango Room for a few snacks and a nightcap.</p>
<p>Nice</p>
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033582009-08-01T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Recovery
<p><!--StartFragment--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Steve Earle & Joe Purdy Rusted Root and the Lake House</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Friday night Mj and I went to Kent Stage to check out Steve Earle and we were treated to a great show.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I do love Steve Earle’s tunes and Joe Purdy was a nice surprise.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t know anything at all about Joe but He has a nice delivery and has about 10 CD’s.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Both were doing a solo thing and it was sorta motivational for me to take it all in, especially coming off the heels of the Nashville experience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Reckon I should turn on the machine on and get on with recording.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The following day, as in Saturday, I was off to do a wedding. The bride wanted me to do something different for here recessional, and she likes Rusted Root; So last week I spent a considerable amount of time working up a pretty good version, although I don’t think anyone has an idea what the lyrics really are to that song.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then off to the Lake house where I was on autopilot for my first and about the same for the third set, but the second set, now that one felt great.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><img src="/img/lakehouseinn2008-01.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="lakehouseinn2008-01.jpg" height="276" width="368" /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was a beautiful night on the lake, and the place was simply slammed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was absolutely whipped by the time I was loaded out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Woke up this morning and for the first time in months, wrote a tune.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think a recovery day is in order.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><img src="http://www.madewellmusic.com/images/l_a6904569d7614534a5486c47668130ec.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="l_a6904569d7614534a5486c47668130ec.jpg" height="263" width="350" /></p>
<!--EndFragment-->
<p> </p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033572009-07-29T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Nashville Cats
<p><!--StartFragment-->
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Nashville Cats</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So 40 or so years ago I took my first trip to Nashville.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was riding shot gun with my uncle Roosevelt who was delivering a load of fertilizer to some place in town. I was constantly thumping on my guitar so he drove the truck through the music district to show me all the places where the music was made.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just so happened that the Lovin Spoonfuls’ Nashville Cats was popular at that time so uncle Rose and I were singing that as we drove down Broad Street.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The song says there are 1352 guitar pickers in Nashville, I am thinking that is significantly underestimated.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This past week I had the chance to hang for a few days in the guitar town.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Through nothing but blind luck I wound up staying and a Holiday Inn Express right next to Vanderbilt’s football stadium.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I had no idea that it is one of the cities hot spots for singer songwriters, and for the three nights I was there I probably heard 50 folks plying their trade.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most were very good and some were damn good!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Debi Champion put this together with the help of Lorna Flowers.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Both of these ladies by the way are accomplished song writers and Lorna happened to be celebrating an anniversary of sorts one of the nights I was there.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You can check out the commodore at this link</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/commodoregrill" data-imported="1">http://www.myspace.com/commodoregrill</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was pretty wild to sit there and listen to wave after wave of folks take the stage and do a song writer in the round for a couple tunes each then surrender their seats to the next batch.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Folks can audition for a spot at the end of certain nights and get invited back of they have good stuff.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was a great range of material being presented and while I don’t do much in the way of country country, I appreciate the form.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was really impressed with one fellow, Trent Jeffcoat who had several songs that were really strong for this form. Probably one of the best car songs I have ever heard, and a couple really funny thrown in too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">His myspace link is </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/trentjeffcoat" data-imported="1">http://www.myspace.com/trentjeffcoat</a></p>
<!--EndFragment-->
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033562009-07-06T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00June 26th @ the Spider
<p>June 26th I did an early show down at the Barking Spider with the bass man Bruce Locke.
We were followed by a very good singer song writer from Pittsburg, Tom Breiding.
Tom has a number of recording projects under his belt including his most recent project about the West Virginia coal fields.
He asked me if I would be interested in coming down to Pittsburg next March to perform at the
AmeriSon Ballroom Folk Series at Cefalo's
Carnegie, PA
March 2nd - Tuesday 7pm-10pm
I would be splitting the night with a singer song writer from the UK Sarah McQuaid
Both Tom and Sarah are very good
http://www.tombreiding.com/twotone/pages/press.php
http://www.sarahmcquaid.com/</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033552009-07-05T20:00:00-04:002021-12-23T03:03:06-05:00My Dermatologist!
<p>A compassionate presence vs. an uncomfortable act!
The first time I went to a dermatologist was after I got a little piece of my skin caught in a sweater.
Some of us have these wonderful phenomena where we form lovely little things called skin tags.
Bout the only redeeming thing I could research and find out about this sort of thing is that some indigenous cultures regard this manifestation as a sign of mystic powers.
Whoooooo Cool. I got my mojo working!
In my late 30’s I started growing these things and some how managed to get one caught in a sweater as I was pulling the sweater off.
So this inspired me to go to this dermatologist who had me pull off my shirt and he looked me over.
He turned away from me for a moment only to turn around with a needle in one hand and some scissors in the other.
I was expecting him to look at me and then give me a prescription or something to melt my little troubles away.
I wasn’t expecting a pair of eyes starring over a surgical mask intent on poking and snipping them away.
I wouldn’t say I was severely traumatized but I would put it in the moderate category.
It wasn’t all so painful; it was just sort of freaky.
I have this strange mental thing I go through when ever I leave a piece of my body behind and I guess I just wasn’t mentally prepared for that.
(Especially my mojo and would I loose my mystic powers?)
I didn’t go back to a dermatologist for over ten years.
When I did it was at the urging of a friend who happens to be a doctor who happens to be married to another doctor who happens to be a dermatologist.
Doctor number one made a convincing case that, as much time as I have spent outside I should really give some thought to monitoring the condition of my skin.
With my Pop having various skin cancers scrapped cut and snipped off this seemed like a pretty good idea.
So he convinced me to go see his wife.
I have to say there was no comparison to my first visit to a skin doctor.
When I left I looked pretty much like I had been shot in the face with birdshot at about fifty yards.
I was peppered with all manner of little red dots where I have been injected and snipped, frozen and zapped and even scalpeled a time or two.
That being said however it is appropriate to mention the biggest difference of all.
And that was in my attitude.
You see my new found friend the dermatologist, approached things with such an overwhelming sense of compassion and reassuring
confidence that I didn’t mind at all.
There are few times in your life when you really can relax and surrender your self to someone’s care.
I try to do that when I am on a guided hunting or fishing outing.
I certainly remain aware and focused but I let the guide take me where they want me to be.
It is a remarkable lightness to just be.
It is really wonderful in today’s world to be able to do that especially in the area of medical care.
I have never quite experienced this before where a doctor overcomes a completely uncomfortable situation with reassuring confidence and simple compassion.
What is so wonderful about the whole experience is the realization of how deeply committed this exceptional person is to humanity.
Today is the third year I have been back and each time I get a little “beat up†but I actually look forward to going, as it is such a pleasure just to be in her presence.
Sorry fellows but when we get right down to it, I think she’s my favorite Doctor.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033542009-06-20T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Beetox
<p>Beetox vs. Botox
So last Tuesday when I went down to get the bees at Ken the Bee Mans I got stung twice under my left eye and once on the thumb.
By the time I was one the road back home I knew that I was going to puff up a little bit.
Getting stung used to not bother me at all but I think after Jim Brock and I moved a hive in the night and got zapped a dozen or more times each it seems that I have on occasion puffed up a little bit.
The first time this happened was when Rachel was a little girl and was helping me tend a hive.
I had taken things apart and there was a pretty good cloud of bees buzzing and she headed back to the truck.
I finished up what I was doing, walked back to the truck and as I pulled off my veil off I realized that one of the more irate bees had followed me.
I stared to jump in the blazer and realized that Rachel had locked the doors.
While I was negotiating for Rachel to let me in, I got zapped right between the eyes.
That was the first time I ever swelled up after a bee sting and the next day I sort of looked like a pig.
Anyway, since then I have had the tendency to get a little puffy depending on where the sting was.
Since Ken’s bees had drilled me under the eye I suspected that I would probably have a lump by the time I got home.
Sure enough after getting home and dumping the girls out in their new hives I could feel a little tightness around my eye and cheek.
When I asked MJ how it looked she said that all the wrinkles around my eye was gone and I looked like I had a beetox treatment and suggested that I go out and let them sting my other cheek.
That way I wouldn’t look like one of those TV commercials where they treat only one side of the face to demonstrate the effectiveness of the product.
Beetox what an idea!
This really could be a pretty cool thing if you think about it.
Age defying beetox, nature’s organic anti aging treatment.
Just a simple injection or two with a tiny hypodermic administered by a completely dedicated professional.
My new money making idea fell apart when I woke up the next morning and found I had a lovely purple triangle under my left eye and it looked more like someone socked me.
I suppose I will try asking for a little less venom next time.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033532009-06-19T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00The Gals Are Back!
<p> </p>
<div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f17e3521f376990d4089d137a5a8bcc6458fd88a/original/checkingoutthebees.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzI0eDQzMyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="checkingoutthebees.jpg" height="433" width="324" /></div>
<p> </p>
<p>Looking for a queen bee!</p>
<p>The Gals Are Back! You might recall that last year I got a colony of bees from my friend Ken at Mid Ohio Honey. We met when he and Lori had stopped in at the Old Fire House and spent the rest of the afternoon listening to my play. One thing lead to another and the next thing you know Ken and Lori are dropping off a box full of bees at my house last June. Anyway, the girls seemed to be thriving all summer and fall but last winter was just too much for them and that exceptionally cold spell we had in Febuarary after the exceptionally cold spell we had in January brought about their demise. After pestering Ken for about two months we finally confirmed a date and Last week I drove down to his place near Mansfield to pick up a couple packages of bees. If this sounds a little strange it really isn’t once you get past the notion that you are dealing with several pounds of insects that are capable of stinging you. Bee keeping has a long history and it is yet one of many really remarkable stories of how the relationship between people and animals has evolved. Beekeepers do all kinds of interesting things and I was about to participate in one I hadn’t seen before. My history as a beekeeper has had varied ups and downs but having once tasted the sweet taste of success (yuk yuk) I have found myself from time to time wanting to get back into the hobby. So here I am going off to a bee yard with Ken the real bee man. A bee yard by the way is a place where there are several hives of bees, Kens’ bee yard happens to be surrounded by blue berries. We get to the bee yard aka. Apiary and Ken pulls this giant metal funnel out of his truck. I had asked him if I should take a veil, that is one of those funny net hats that you see bee people wearing in all the photos. Matter of fact in most of the photos you see bee people wearing all sorts of special clothing. They sort of look like HAZMAT crews with white coveralls, gloves and the funny hats. And there is good reason for this. A colony may have 100,000 bees. The first time I moved a hive I had a bunch of impromptu protective clothing and I got stung more than a dozen times but that is another story. But since then I would like to think that I have learn a few chops (that is a guitarist phrase which means I think I have learned a thing of two) about handling bees. For one thing, I have developed this approach of moving very slow and deliberately whenever I am working with them, this seems to make a big difference. Zen, Me and Bee make three. So when Ken said he wasn’t going to use a veil I thought “Cool, I won’t either. Ken Hands me this giant metal funnel and pulls a couple little bee packages out of his truck. They actually use these packages to ship bees. If you have ever seen a coop they ship chickens in these packages are like this only in miniature. (But the chances that you have seen a chicken coop are remote so I don’t know why the heck I even mentioned it. I used to work on chicken farms when I was a kid and occasionally forget no one else I know has.) Anyway back to the little bee coops. They are about the size of a shoebox with screened sides and a wooden top and bottom. The top has a round hole in it that is covered with a screen once the bees are in the box. We were going to “shake down” the bees into the package. I had no idea what that was about but hey this is how you learn. We fired up the smoker, which is this little metal thing about the size of a coffee can with a bellows on the side and a funnel on the top. You put a bunch of paper and grass in it and light it. Close the funnel top and use the bellows to puff smoke in to the beehive. This causes the bees to think that there is a forest fire coming so they all set about doing their version of an elementary school fire drill. In other words they get a little pre occupied and in theory don’t mind the plundering that is about to happen. So I follow Ken to the first hive, where he puffs a bit of smoke at them, tears off the cover of the hive and to my surprise pitches it on the ground. Remember what I said about slow and deliberate? Well Ken you see has been a commercial beekeeper, and at one time had something like 2500 hives. With that big an operation time is money. I haven’t ever been around a commercial operator before. He proceeds to pull a frame (a part of the hive that holds honey comb) out of the hive that is simply covered with bees maybe five hundred to a thousand or so, looks it over to make sure that the queen isn’t walking around on it then slams it down into the funnel I am holding. The majority of the bees is flung off the frame into the funnel and down into the bee package. The operative word is majority. Maybe ten of fifteen percent buzz off into the air. We proceed to do this to over and over again and each time a few more bees buzz off into the air. So in no time we are surrounded by quite a cloud of fairly pissed off bees. Ken has a grey tee shirt on, a ball cap and jeans. I have a white long sleeve shirt and jeans. Almost immediately one flies down my shirt. And I have to stop walk away and shake her out. One near miss. Then one makes a “bee line” toward a black wrist support I have on, realizes that the wrist support isn’t skin and promptly walks over to my thumb and drills me. Which is no big deal and I knock her off before she can really give me a good dose. However that little episode is followed by a direct hit to my left cheek right below my eye. I scrape that one off only to be hit immediately in the same place again. Thankfully our first package is full and we walk away back to the truck. Off course we are escorted by a few of the guard bees who have a sworn oath of office to protect the hive several of whom fly directly into my chest to make sure that I know they mean business. While Ken closes up the first package, I dig a veil out of his truck because; I don’t want to take any more shots to the face. And the next round of shake down goes off without a hitch. So know we have maybe thirty thousand bees in two little shoeboxes all ready to go to my house and be introduced into the two empty hives I have waiting with one exception. They need a couple queens. Not to worry. Mr. Bee man, Ken has one hive set up that is something like the bee version of the Tower of London. There is a collection of royalty each in their own little cell. Yep a queen bee trapped in a little plastic cell. Who is ready to be freed by diligent attendants who only have to bust her out by eating a hole in the sugar plug blocking the opening. Ken took two of these little prisons and put one into each of the packages of bees and we were done at the bee yard and were on the road back to Ken’s place. Meanwhile back at the ranch, Lori had made a run to the local store for cold beer and pulled in shortly after we arrived. And while we were walking around trying to figure out what a kind of new tree was growing in the corner of his yard was. (Clammy Locust BTW) I saw that Ken got stung one time on the cheek too. We had a beer on the porch and I played a couple tunes for Ken and the girls, Lori, Jess and Lynn before hitting the road back to the valley. Next up Beetox!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033522009-05-30T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Nice Weather
<p>Nice weather.
The recent string of nice weather has been just what the spirit needed.
I don’t mind the winter and in fact I really like it. I like to work in the barn after dark and always appreciate this uninterrupted time.
But I confess that the temperature does wear me down.
And this winter was one of a great deal of emotional upheaval. It is still hard to get used to the fact that both our dogs are gone and I am often a little remorseful when I get home and there is no Emmet or Kate waiting to say hello and take a little stroll in the back yard.
The other day I was working in the yard with Ipod and headphones on, and Bill Stains' song Old Dogs cycled up.
I teared right up.
Of course folks in the know, know that my work has exploded and I am juggling a great deal in the conservation career.
And I miss the "boys" coming to check on me and ground me after a big day at work.
And I like so many other folks have the tendency to over do it in the warmer months.
Finding balance and working within the capacity I can manage is the big test, but I have been here before and hopefully will put the right things on hold and take care of the essentials.
But right now in the last few weeks of spring it is easy to see that everything is just beautiful.
It is funny how we choose not to look and really see what is around us.
I recently read a thought by Thoreau which basically said if the stars were only visible one night out of the year it would be a historical holiday of celebration, as it is we can see them on any clear night and take them for granted.
I need to remember this to sustain me through what will be a very busy year.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033512009-05-19T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Turkey Anyone?
<p>This past Sunday I woke up at 4:00 and couldn't go back to sleep. I was thinking about work and that sort of thing. After tossing and turning for about forty-five minutes I remembered that it was the last day of turkey season. I got up and threw my stuff together and ran up the road a bit to friends’ place. Generally when you go turkey hunting the idea is to get in the woods about a hour before sunrise and to get set up and ready to go well be for light. There is an old trail system that goes through this wood and I sort of know my way around so I shuffled off to fine myself a suitable tree to lean against. Now if you don’t know anything about turkey hunting, the deal is sort of like this: Spring is turkey breeding season. They have amazing eyesight and they have a pretty big vocabulary if you will. In other words they make a number of different sounds and they clearly communicate with each other. In the evenings they roost in big trees and fly down to begin their daily activities right be for or right after sunrise. The general objective is to: Know there are turkeys in the woods your are hunting. Get your self in a comfortable position where you have a commanding view of the surrounding landscape. Have some capability with a turkey call. Get camouflaged from head to toe, and be completely aware of what is going on around you. And of course you have to get all this together and ideally be sitting down and ready before it gets daylight. If you are thinking this sounds like a stupid past time, I won’t argue that you do have a point. However this is a spectacular time of year to be in the woods at sunrise and really it is worth doing regardless of if you are hunting anything. I also think anyone who is remotely interested in observing nature should get camouflaged up some time and go sit in a natural area and be as still as possible. The things you may see can simply be remarkable. But that is a another collection of stories. Ok Back to turkey hunting. I started doing this on occasion a few years ago and of all the hunting activities that I have been involved with I have laughed at myself more times chasing turkeys than any thing else. It really can be incredibly addicting and in a very bad way. You see because it is so early in the morning, you can delude yourself into thinking that you can go for a couple hours then dash home and go on to work. What happens to me anyway is I start nodding off around two o’clock in the afternoon and as I struggle to stay awake I start imaging turkeys walking in a line behind people I am talking with in meetings. This is not a good thing, so I have tried to minimize my turkey hunting. But here I was watching the growing morning light and listening to the woods come alive. All the song birds were singing up a storm, I saw a couple racoons amble down the trail toward me then climb a hickory tree just a few feet away and squeeze into a hole about 20 feet off the ground that looked about the diameter of a tennis ball. Of course there are all sorts of wild flowers coming out this time of year and there is a myriad of different shades of green and all the plants are kicking into high gear. I had parked myself at the base of a large oak tree with a natural clearing in front of me. In about fifteen minutes I heard my first gobble and it sounded like the bird was over the hill behind me. The idea of course is to make a call that sounds like a female turkey and try to entice the fellows to come looking. When I was a youngster my dad had taught me how to call quail by imitating a covey or gathering call, and many of the same basic priciples apply to nearly any type of bird calling, that is don’t over do it and let them call back. So after hearing the first male turkey gobble, I started imitating a hen turkey. In no time I had at least one and maybe two birds going. It dawned on me that I should move so they wouldn’t be coming in behind me. That isn't good because you have to let them walk by you and you never know how many there are. If there are several one of the stragglers might see you move and alert the others, so I decided to move to the other side of the little clearing. Also I felt like I would have a little better cover to my back. So I got up walked across the clearing plopped down against another large oak and waited a few minutes. Nothing but song birds. I was afraid my buddies were already on the top of the ridge when I made my move and they might have seen me. So I called a cadence and waited thinking it was still going to be a great day even if I might have blown it by getting up and moving around. Nothing Five minutes or so and I gave another cadence of hen calls, and waited several minutes and then gave it up again. This time I heard a gobble back, but it sounded further away than the ones I had heard earlier, but then again I reasoned I was forty yards further away from where I was. Waited a few minutes and scratched three more chirps and this time had a gobble right away and was much much closer. I knew the bird was out of the valley and coming my way. In just a few minutes I saw him coming down off of the trail and heading on a course that would put him stepping behind a big oak tree about thirty yards in front of me which was going to be perfect. He of course stopped for the longest time! I gently scratched a couple times on my call and he started coming a gain but he changed directions. He was now going east parallel the trail I walked in on. He stopped in a little clearing and gave a nice gobble, then flared up his tail and wings for a moment. This is always a cool thing to see and it makes them look huge. He was getting closer but taking his own good time about it. When he stepped behind a nice size tree, I eased the call down to the ground. He came out and continued walking until he was behind another tree and I twisted my gun around and turned the safety off. He moved behind the large oak I was originally sitting at and I lifted my gun to my shoulder For the longest time he barely showed himself and then finally he was a good foot or so beyond the tree. When I pulled the trigger he went right down, but I have had several friend loose birds after shooting them. Sometimes after a few moments they can regain their composure and run or fly away, so I thought I better get up and run over to make sure that this didn't happen. Now this is where it gets sort of funny. I jump up and took one step and stove my left knee. I nearly went down and I realize that not only is my left leg is asleep, both legs were asleep. I had to ease myself back to the ground for a few minutes using my shotgun as a support. All was good and he was down. This was like the perfect hunt. I mean really, I have never had one so smooth before. If I had had anyone with me who didn’t know a thing about turkey hunting they would have thought, “What is so hard about this/” Of course I haven't even shot at a turkey in 7 years or so, so I guess I had one coming! If you are interested in knowing how it tasted just shoot me an email.file:///Users/stephenmadewell/Desktop/IMG_1547.JPG<img src="webkit-fake-url://870C9D3D-63F3-478D-BA5A-CB4FBA8BCB83/image.tiff" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="158" /></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033502009-05-01T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00maple fest
<p>OK I did the maple fest.
Soon as I got there the fellow running the stage took me to the stash that is the place where the maple cocktails were stored and fixed me up with a drink.
Maple cocktails must have about 3000 calories per drink.
Pure maple syrup, dry gin, bourbon, and lemon juice.
Sort of like a long island ice tea.
There are good.
I did my show with a fairly thick tongue!
In other words I was having a little trouble with enunciation.
Lost of little kids dancing around which is always cute.
The whole show was filmed by m tv
that is Middlefield tv!
(local joke)
The sound guy was like 76 years old and had these vintage speakers. He has been doing sound for the maple festival for 27 years.
No monitors either….
So I couldn't hear what I was playing!!
Too much fun.
Was a trip.
Got done and immediately when for more of the “stashâ€Â/
Whole bunch of older dudes sitting in lawn chairs in front of the storage locker, and I know why they were sitting.
They had the stuff mixed up by the gallon.
Big fun all the way around!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033492009-05-01T20:00:00-04:002021-12-15T17:27:17-05:00The morrel attitude adjustment
<p>May 2, 2009
Later today I will be performing at the Geauga County Maple Festival.
Geauga County makes a lot of maple syrup and this is a big tradition in this region.
This festival used to be held shortly after the maple sap stopped being collected, which is generally around the end of March or early April.
In years pasted it almost always snowed at the Maple Fest so the planning committee has moved it to the first weekend in May.
Short of some sort of meteorological miracle it is not going to snow today.
IT is turning into a spectacular May Day.
I was up early this morning and out pursuing a tradition of my own.
A buddy of mine has a lovely little morrel patch in his woods and for the past few weekends I have been poking around seeing what the good mushroom gods might reveal to me.
Every spring since I was a little squirt with my pop I have been out at least a few hours looking around for morrels, which if you are in to mushrooms are very tasty, easy to identify and fairly difficult to find.
Which leads to a certain mystique as most people hold the location of the their sacred mushroom patches secrete. (So don’t ask)
Anyway I scored enough from Joey’s woods, which by the way is a factious name, to make an admirable side dish for a venison tenderloin steak and eggs breakfast for me and MJ.
Now while I am taking the time to let my meal digest I thought I would post a journal entry.
For the past several months my “day “ work has been basically non-stop, and I have been finding myself in bed sometimes as early as 9:30.
This for me is nearly unheard of.
But for those near and dear, don't worry I have been working on maintaining some sort of balance.
Hence the value of the mushroom collecting stroll.
There are true benefits derived from taking a walk in the woods.
Being immersed in the local environment surrounded by other forms of life, seeing the beauty of a flower blossom or the chartreuse of a patch of moss.
There is a lot out there to take in and taking it in seems to push other things out or at least get them in a different place in your head.
At 6:30 when I got up, I had a gazillion things on my mind.
Not really a gazillion, probably more like six in a gazillion incarnations.
Anyway after taking my walk everything seem to be in the proper perspective.
Amazing how that happens.
And then I got the added pleasure of being able to come back home and do some thing for someone else, that is make breakfast for MJ.
It’s turning out to be a beautiful day and I am going to have a great time playing some music here in a few hours.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033482009-04-16T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Community
<p>Last night 4/16/09 I had a really nice time at the Barking Spider.
I got there with plenty of time only to discover a full band was wailing away when I got there.
As I brought my guitars in a friendly smile and a “Hi Steve†from one of the fine ladies who work there greeted me.
At first I thought the band was Case students who had scored a pick up gig, but after a few minutes I realized who ever they were, these guys were hot.
Sort of a jacked up James Brown funk with a wailing guitar player.
Actually they were a Brooklyn band called Mercury Landing and they were on the road to Chicago, and they happened to pick up an early gig at the Spider.
http://www.mercurylanding.com/
They cleared the stage in plenty of time and as I was setting up, I was told that Billy Lestock had been in earlier in the day and cleaned up the PA and replaced all the questionable mic Cables.
As I got under way, a number of folks came filtering in, some who read my emails and others who caught a mention of the evening from Jim Blum’s WKSU show, and still others who watch the Barking Spiders’ web page.
Several singer/song writers showed up Mark Freeman, Hank Mallory, Ron Chessler, Banjo Dave from the Silver String Band, and Dan from the Swamp Rattlers, Billy Lestock and a bunch of other good friends.
When I got done, most everyone hung around a listened to Hillbilly Idol, who even without Paul sounded great.
On the way home I started thinking about what a cool thing it is to have a community of like individuals and that is one of the wonderful things about the Barking Spider.
The Barking Spider doesn’t pay musicians, they pass the proverbial hat.
But a gig at the spider isn’t really about the money.
It is great to have a place in town where a band on the way to Chicago can stop and catch a pickup gig. Where someone comes in on their own and fixes up the PA. Where you can go an try out some new songs and there will always be someone there to give a listen.
Playing at the Spider is a way to support that sense of community that exists among people who enjoy and want to keep live music alive.
It these really difficult and uncertain times, it will be community that will get us through, and I would like to think last night maybe, just maybe I made a small contribution to a community too.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033472009-03-10T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Optimism
<p>The other day I was standing on the side porch and it was five degrees.
Cardinals were singing in the big trees on the shoulder of the valley. All I could think was this is optimism.
The wonderful thing about optimism is it is contagious.
Now I am not so simple minded to think that they were singing because they were happy (of course who really knows the answer to that question). But rather they were singing because the days are getting longer and it is time for them to begin their mating ritual.
Singing is in fact, their beginning efforts on a journey to perpetuate their species.
However I might choose to look at it their simple little tune certainly cheered me up, and helped me face what was promising to be an otherwise dreary and stressful day.
In light of the current economic and social conditions it is, or would be certainly easy to fall into an abyss of despair.
If you don’t know someone who has lost his or her job consider yourself lucky.
Maybe you have lost your job? I’m sorry if you did and I hope things will improve for you.
There is a lot of bad mojo going round.
I was talking to someone a few months back about choosing to be happy.
I think being happy is often times a choice. One that I didn't make as many times as I could have.
I had written a song called Sleeping on the Wrong Side Of The Bed, (and with a little prodding I hope to finish recording) which is about this very thing.
Not too long after we were talking about this, he lost his job.
Last week we were visiting again and after being unemployed for nearly 6 months he has found a level of happiness that had previously escaped him.
He told me that it was unfortunate that while he had a steady income stream, he hadn’t been able to be happy because he was so consumed with trying to get what he wasn’t able to afford.
Now he simply couldn’t afford anything beyond essentials and he had let go of the desire to acquire things he realized he really didn’t need.
I realize that there are so many people in dire straights, but as my friend said, he has a warm dry house with running water. Things that just a few years ago, or in other countries would be considered luxuries.
So much is relative.
Some things we can change some things we can’t.
Attitude is a choice.
I don’t really believe that anyone knows where these current situations will take us.
I believe most of us recognize that we are in for some readjustments in life style.
I hope we can be like my friend and choose to be happier in what ever situation we are in.
If a Cardinal can find something to sing about on a five degree March morning, surely we can too.
We need to be contagious.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033462009-02-07T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Ice Out
<p>Early this morning the creek released.
I don’t recall how many weeks it has been frozen, but it has been a while.
Across the road in front of our house is a waterfall on a feeder stream.
When I took good old Emmett out last night the little waterfall was a raging torrent and I could hear it all the way back to the barn.
The big creek hadn’t opened up yet. Melt water was flowing overtop of the thick ice and I knew it would only be a matter of hours maybe minutes before the creek would be a rushing river.
It has been a real privileged to live hear and experience this occurrence.
Some years the release has been extremely fast and violent, others it has been like a lava flow.
Last night when it let go, there was a great deal of noise as the ices was broken apart and heaved up on the shore of the creek.
We probably had 15-16 inches of compressed snow on the ground Friday when the temperatures began climbing above freezing and yesterday it got up to 55 degrees.
And it felt great but that is a lot of runoff and it has to go somewhere.
The concern we have with winter melt is ice dams. It is conceivable that a big ice dam could form and it would be 2006 all over again.
I have seen some remarkable ice dams over the years.
The first one was on the Little Miami River right above Factory Road. I came across this while doing my ranger thing with the Greene County Park System.
The entire stream was diverted into an old millrace due to a large ice dam on the mainstream channel.
My old friend Bill Baker and I once walked across an ice dam at the mouth of Paine Creek on the Grand River.
If this seems like an idiotic thing to do….. well it was. But we were well away from the main channel of the river so we thought.
At one point we could hear the sounds of water rushing under the ice we were standing on.
The river was carving a new channel beneath us.
When we realized what was going on we dashed off of and away from the ice. We were standing on a section of the dam that was releasing. We would have probably drowned if we hadn’t got out of there when we did.
An ice dam is formed like this.
Thick sheets of ice that form on the deep slower pools of a river are broken apart by rising floodwaters.
They get washed down stream and get caught up or trapped at sand bars or shallower areas on the stream.
More ice jams up behind them and on occasion a huge dam can be created in relatively short amount of time.
Of course the floodwaters have to go somewhere and ultimately they do.
I have seen occasions where the water undercuts the dam and digs a deep hole in the bed of the stream, or re routes the stream entirely.
And it is pretty amazing to see one let go. I have only seen this once but I will never forget it.
A friend of mine and I were standing on top of a hill overlooking a stream. The entire stream was blocked and water was spilling out over the banks and spreading out across the floodplain.
A small column of water came shooting out of the ice dam and was going probably thirty feet into the air. The water column kept getting bigger and bigger until it collapsed into a large gushing boil.
That side of the dam blew out first and in a matter of seconds it was all gone.
When the water level returned to normal I went to investigate the bed of the stream. I found that the hydraulic pressure had created a deep pool where the water had forced its way under the ice.
It is not too often we get to see geologic forces at work and when ever I do it always reminds me how inconsequential my little worries are in the grand scheme of things.
It was nice to hear the sounds of the stream again last night.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033452009-01-10T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00In the Heart of Winter.
<p>Personally I love winter.
Always have.
For one thing it enables a different perspective that encourages a seasonal shift in activities.
I start doing things that I have put away or put off for some time.
A few weeks ago I got a call from my friend Kuma, who rebuilds bamboo fly rods.
If you are not familiar with these things, they are remarkable works of art. In a nut shell, a piece of bamboo is split into smaller pieces which are hand planed to the proper dimensions then glued together to form a six sided, tapering fly rod.
They are really quite amazing.
An old gentleman had given me an armload of broken bamboo rods a few years ago.
Bits and pieces that I sorted through and saved the ones that I thought could be salvaged.
Slowly I have been having Kuma restore them.
We met and I picked up the most recently restored rod and in our conversation he wanted to know if Ihad came across anything of interest.
I told him about a rod that I had bought a few years ago that was sort of interesting.
I had set it aside and hadn’t even thoroughly cleaned it up after the flood two years ago.
It came stored a rod holder that was in a canvas bag. It was a very different storage system and that is one of the reasons I bought it.
He encouraged me to take it out and do a little research on its origins and history.
Thanks to the Internet, I discovered that the rod it’s self is pretty cool. As it turns out it is an Empire City Rod that was built in 1888 or 89 by a couple fellows that are quite renown in the world of fly-fishing, Thomas and Edwards.
But that is not the neat part of the story.
On the canvas storage bag there is the name W B Mershon Jr., and a date April 15 1908.
On a whim I did a goggle search and found that WB Mershon was not only written up in American Angler and Field and Stream, but he also wrote the first book on the decline of the passenger pigeon.
He lived in Saginaw and was actually the mayor there for a year. He made a fortune in the lumber industry and was known for his extensive hunting and fishing trips.
The Squire brothers accompanied Mershon, on at least one of his fishing trips. They were from Cleveland and I believe they started the law firm Squire Dempsey and Sanders.
So there is a little local connection here too.
Now I just have to find out if Jr. was his son and what the significance of April 15th is all about.
By the way this rod is in excellent condition and you could take it fishing today…. that is if the stream wasn’t frozen.
Needless to say I hold the thing and imagine the stories it could tell.
I probably wouldn’t have taken the time to look into this if Kuma and had met in the Spring or summer as opposed to December.
As it turned out, I have this lovely little piece of history that I discovered in the heart of the winter.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033442008-12-06T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Deer Camp ’08
<p>The Deer gun season in Ohio starts the first Monday after Thanksgiving, so for nearly forty years I have been scurrying around trying to get my warmest and best outdoor clothes together the weekend after the holiday.
The first year my cousin Keith and I got to go with my Pop and Uncle Marvin, we were off to the hill country of southeast Ohio.
That was a time when most people considered themselves lucky to see a deer in Ohio. Of course the white tail population has grown dramatically since then.
We drove two trucks, Dad’s little Toyota and a big pickup with a camper shell and it was quite the adventure.
There were several great memories created on that trip but one of the funniest was the unexpected trip to the grocery store.
Dad and Uncle Marvin had no idea how much two 13 year olds could eat.
We left on a Sunday morning and by Monday afternoon, Keith and I had eaten nearly everything that had been packed.
A bit bewildered, Dad and Marv took off to do some more grocery shopping leaving Keith and I alone in the camper. As they were leaving, Keith and I were down to eating the last of the supplies, Hormel potted meat out of little tin cans on Saltines.
When the men returned with additional stores, they had bought several more cans of the potted meat because Marv had seen us eating it and thought that we liked it.
As you might imagine, that really wasn’t the case, we were just eating it because there was nothing left to eat.
At any rate I had the opportunity to hunt with Pop and a growing number of my cousins for several years camping in everything from a shed to tents.
We had some great times and experienced nearly every kind of Ohio weather.
As I got older, I really notice Dad slowing down. There was a transition from him waiting for and looking after me, to me waiting for and looking after him.
Before broke down and got glasses, I remember one time him trying to light a Coleman lantern and not being able to see the port for the match. I lit it for him and he said, “Getting old is no good.â€Â
When I moved to northeast Ohio, I started hunting up here because of a number of factors, ample local hunting opportunities and limited time made it seem a bit unreasonable to drive all the way to the other end of the state.
In 2000, I drove back down south to surprise the gang and had a great time walking the hills I had spent so many hours walking and hunting in past years.
On that trip I also realized that in his mid 70’s tent camping was a bit rough for Pop, so I insisted that he start coming up here to hunt with me.
I had the good fortune to have access to a cabin and some pretty nice hunting territory just west of the Ohio/Pa line.
So that was the beginning of deer camp as several of us have come to know it along Conneaut Creek.
Our little party has grown to include my son Phil, my son in law Sean, my nephew Franklin and a few other friends.
Franklin drives up from Tn. and stops in Dayton to pick Dad up on the way.
We assemble on Sunday and enjoy each others company till mid day on Tuesday when we all part to return to our regular routines.
I have assumed the role of the camp director for lack of a better term and I divy up the work of cooking and cleaning up after meals and making sure everyone’s guns are sighted in and functioning properly and giving everyone instructions on what kind of food to bring.
And there is no potted meat!
We eat entirely too much and have a good time reliving the past years events. We are normally exhausted and in bed by 9:30.
The activities in the evening have often been hilarious. I could go on in great detail about Dad’s homemade marble game and his ever changing rules, or the time I forced the “boys†to eat all the Little Debbie and Hostess snacks that Dad had brought so he wouldn’t think we weren’t appreciative of his offer to the camp.
The next year he brought twice as many treats! And I again coaxed them on sharing the story of the potted meat.
As time has progressed, it started to become clearer to me that my success wasn’t measured by if I got a deer but rather to who else would get a deer in our party.
This year was the first year that I actually assigned people on where to go and who did what in the field.
The conditions on Monday were nearly perfect with reasonable temperatures and snow on the ground. And we had remarkable success. But with several missed shots and plenty of material for next year’s stories and good natured teasing.
Dad is 84 this year so each and every one of these moments is special.
It takes a lot of time and energy to organize everything but then again anything worth doing takes a little bit of effort.
At 52 I am critically aware of my bodies own aches and pains, and the very real shift that has occurred to my vision.
But as long as I can continue to bring them all together for a day or two of companionship, I will and that is how I will measure my success.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033432008-11-25T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Happy Thanksgiving
<p>It has been awhile since I have made an entry.
I needed a break of sorts but I wanted to post a
Happy Thanksgiving note.
So I am sitting here in the barn with a bit of time to kill.
I have a turkey in the smoker in preparation for tomorrow festivities.
Our family tradition of a smoked turkey goes back several decades.
Once I introduced smoked turkey to the family feast there was nothing else acceptable.
The family is gathering together tomorrow and even though it shouldn’t be required, I get at least two offspring that pop the question, “Are you smoking the turkey?â€Â
My older brother Frank got my dad a little chief smoker nearly thirty years ago, and Dad never used it. So I borrowed it, as it turns out permanently.
My first ventures in to this culinary realm began with making venison jerky, then smoked fish and then the thanksgiving turkey.
I moved on to things like goose jerky, smoked duck, steelhead and pheasant. All of which have been met with rousing approval.
So much so that just this week, Unit A, as I called Stephanie when she was little, started lobbing for jerky.
You should understand that Stephanie is sort of a “cool hunter†always on the make for the next hip a trendy thing. (You can read all about her on going search on her blog Even Cleveland.)
So I guess that is some sort of vote of continued significant approval.
She was telling me that I could probably fulfill all of my Christmas obligations with jerky.
Not Smoking T’s jerky or Trumbull Locker Jerky, but Steve Jerky.
I nomore than hung up the phone when Unit B, code name for Rachel, called putting in a request for a couple smoked steelhead trout.
So tomorrow, before Thanksgiving, Stephanie’s husband Sean, Phil and I will be slicing up some of the deer that we were fortunate enough to harvest into little strips in preparation for marinating and subsequent smoking.
The steelhead might have to wait a bit but I can’t think of a better way for the “men folk†to spend some time together.
Making a simple gift provided by the richness of the world around us.
Of course while we are involved with our task, Mj and the girls will be assembling a killer dinner for early afternoon and yet another moment of thankfulness.
When Sean, Phil and I take any breaks we will be upstairs in the barn going over our gear for the up coming deer gun season which begins next Monday.
Deer Camp takes place at the Conneaut Creek Club, and will be a two and half day gathering of a host of family and friends.
My nephew Franklin comes up from Tenn. and stops in Dayton and picks up dad.
Pop is 84. And he is always excited to spend some time in the woods with his grand kids.
One of the coolest things is also going to occur this year.
Rachel tracked down one of his Army Air Corp buddies from the China Burma India portion of WW II.
He lives about 15 miles down the road and he and Dad haven’t seen each other in over 60 years.
Franklin and Dad plan to stop in a visit with him on the way up.
At Deer Camp, I am like the old camp counselor, making sure everyone’s guns get properly sited in and directing who cooks what meals and does what clean up, keeping track of who goes where and who will be near by to help pop out if he gets a deer.
It has been a wonderful life progression.
When Dad and I started hunting deer together I was 13 and he was always looking out for and slowing down to wait for me. Now it is my turn to do the same for him.
It is one of the things that I look forward to each and every year and one of the greatest things that I am truly thankful for.
The creation of rich memories for many of the people I care so deeply for.
Happy Thanksgiving.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033422008-10-24T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Glacier the final entry
<p>Glacier the final submission The hike out of the Bely River Valley was incredibly muddy. It was a testament to why pack animal and pedestrian trails are not always a good idea. In some spots we were literally slogging along through 6 inches of mud. With a full pack this is a little challenging at times. It required a bit of focus on each and every footfall. Other than that it was a great morning with a high big blue Montana sky. It was a little chilly when we got going and the vegetation was still very wet from the rain and snow that fell earlier so we were hiking in our rain pants, and considering the muddy conditions this was OK. We saw a couple white tail deer in one of the meadows not far from where we camped but other than that we didn’t see any wildlife. I think I mentioned before we got our back country permit that we had to watch the National Park Service video that tells you how to keep from being eaten by a bear, or how to enjoy your last moments alive playing dead before you get eaten by a bear. They suggest making a fair amount of noise and other such measures. This might not seem like such a big deal but after hiking a while, you really are more focused on simple things like breathing, checking out nature, or in our case that morning, not slipping and sliding in the mud. So we weren’t making all that much noise until we came upon a moose trail that crossed our path. I was amazed. I am very familiar with deer trails here in Ohio and so when I came upon what looked like someone had driven a roto-tiller across the trial it took me a little while to recognize what I was looking at. Rachel had continued on down the trail a bit and I called out to her to stop and check this out. So she came back and we took a moment to ogle the moose tracks and how much it had cut up the soil coming off the hillside and going down into the valley. As it turned out it was a good thing I called out. Shortly ahead of us the trail took a hard bend around a hillside. Rachel was hiking ahead of me and I saw her jump like she had nearly stepped on a snake. She turned and pointed at the ground and shouted something like “look and the size of these frikken tracks”. And yes my friends, a grizzly bear had been walking down the trail right toward us. I think when it heard us talking about the moose trail it had turned and headed down toward the river. As we continued to hike out we saw that the bear had also been walking the trail for quite some time, so it is quite likely that he detoured to avoid us. I took a picture of one of the tracks next to Rachel’s hiking boot for perspective. The funny thing about this was after seeing the bear tracks, we were both much more vocal for the remainder of our hike. About 11:00 we heard some folks coming down a series of switchbacks and they were making a lot of noise. We had stopped to take a break and when they passed us they said they had just seen a mother bear and a cub. The cub had climbed a tree and the mother bear had crashed off into the forest. Shortly after that Adam caught up with us. We figured he would catch us before we hit the trailhead as he was about as Rachel and combined and we had to take two and a half steps for every one of his. Anyway, we hiked out the rest of the way together and offered to give him a ride back to the train station. We had enjoyed our conversation with him the night before and it didn’t seem right to leave him sitting at a trailhead waiting for three of four hours for a shuttle. We enjoyed a spectacular drive down the east park boundary and really got a better since of just how big the park is. Something like 1500 square miles. The train station is right by the East Glacier lodge, which I wanted to check out anyway. These big old lodges are the source of great controversy in the park system. The overhead is huge and they need so much work. There is an on going debate about taking them down. When you see them however it is a look back into the grandeur of a different time. After dropping Adam off we continued to drive around the park with intentions of camping near the main gate. We were both looking forward to a shower and greatly disappointed to find out that none of the camp grounds in the center or on the west side of the parks had showers. So we decided we were heading for a dinner and a motel. After checking in at Cheap Sleeps getting a great shower I took my little girl out for a Montana steak dinner. Needless to say we had a good nights cheap sleep. The next day we planned on car touring the western portion of the park. This gave us yet another reason to drive past this coffee shop we had eaten at on our first morning in town. This place had killer breakfasts with wonderful muffins. I have to say that most of the meals I have bought in Montana have been pretty good; couple exceptions being one lunch at some casino near tiger town with Hollister, and a non descript burger in Zortman. That aint odd bad though! The west side of the park is where the big fire was a few years back and is it equally impressive as the east side in a very different way. We drove to a little town called Pole Bridge. Never saw the pole bridge but I am sure it had to be there. Nothing much else was. There is an amazing little mercantile store surrounded by a cluster of little buildings about 2 miles outside of the western park gate. This is at the end of maybe a 20 mile drive on a gravel road. We drove up to a beautiful place, Bowman Lake I believe, and took a hike and had lunch. And there I found one of the things I had hoped to find. Incredible quite. This is something I have only experienced a few times, where the quite is so profound it is stunning. This is something that should be protected just as much as piece of art or any endangered species. I could go on about this and perhaps I will some time, just suffice it to say it was something that I hope I would get to experience on the trip and on the west side of glacier we found it. On our hike out was stopped and took some photos by the lake, watched mayflies hatch off the water, and marveled at the total beauty on the place. While we were walking back to the car, we heard what we thought at first was someone turning a radio on. It was a fellow who had just sat down and strummed his guitar the waterside several hundred yards away. It was as loud as a ghetto blaster. We took our time getting back into town where we sat about preparing for our departure. Clothes to wash, equipment to UPS back home and a few more souvenirs to buy. The last element of the adventure was getting out of town on the last flight from Kalispel and then the last flight out of Chicago. Hurricane Gustave carried us out there and Hurricane Ike welcomed us home.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/41bb3b5a818d8ba47c31681ba9cbf8eb03ed4280/original/hugesteverachelgnp08.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzAweDMwMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="hugesteverachelgnp08.jpg" height="300" width="300" /></p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033412008-10-04T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00#2 glacier unedited photos
<p><img src="webkit-fake-url://66710A17-8C8B-4A15-A6B7-FF5D653CF75F/image.tiff" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>http://picasaweb.google.com/rachel.madewell/GlacierNationalParkVacation2ndHalf?authkey=pWPtq7_bJuY#</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033402008-10-04T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00#1 glacier unedited photo
<p><img src="webkit-fake-url://78095026-3006-48B5-A60F-CBD597C03F6D/image.tiff" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /></p>
<p>Me Cold and Wet</p>
<p>http://picasaweb.google.com/rachel.madewell/GlacierNationalParkTrip20081stHalf</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033392008-10-04T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Glacier 4
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/69b2b020783eeab955780afa809dd49f88b46b8f/original/hugemntclevelandinglacier.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDAweDMwMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="hugemntclevelandinglacier.jpg" height="300" width="400" />Glacier 4 I finally got up and started poking around about 910:30 in the morning. The biologist’ were already out trying to collect their samples and the other group had packed out. I headed off skirting the edges of the meadows and began collecting dry branches off of standing dead trees. After an hour or so I had a pretty good pile of wood to work with and Rachel and I built a nice fire. The biologists came back about the time we got the fire going. They had decided that they were going to call off their efforts for the day as the rain and snow from the night before would skew their data. So they set about breaking their camp. They were very appreciative of the fire. Evidently they had tried to get one going earlier in the morning with no avail. Once the fire was going we made ourselves some breakfast. It is amazing how good a bowl of oatmeal can taste. To cook on I had bought this MSR rocket from a store near the airport. You really can’t expect to get through airport security with a backpacking stove so I had planned on buying one when I got there. MSR makes great gear and this is a great little stove. We had more cooking equipment than we needed and most of it was left back in the car. What we did take were some of these nifty little squishy bowls and cups, a small teakettle and a small pot and we really didn’t need much else. We had bought a several freeze-dried meals and some of which were marginal and others were really good. For example that evening we had chicken and dumplings for dinner and it was really really good. We wound up taking a few short hikes that day but mostly we just enjoyed tending the fire and drying a few things out. Rachel did take the time to open up an emergency blanket and tape it up to the insides of our tent. She wanted to minimize the drafting we were experiencing. IT worked too! Mid afternoon a solo backpacker joined us. Adam Brown. Adam had hiked across the park starting on the west side and heading east. He had spent the night at a much higher elevation and he said the storm was really interesting. Adam works for the Appalachian Trail and we really enjoyed sitting around the fire and talking with him through the night. Other than a few white tail deer, we didn’t see any big animals in the Belly River valley. We did however have quite the show with some smaller critters. The biologist had warned me to make sure to not leave anything un attended. Evidently the squirrels had gotten into a couple of their packs and made a bit of a mess. And there was no shortage of squirrels in the pine grove where we were camping. At this time of year they are busy collecting pinecones, which they store for later consumption. It is my understanding that grizzly bears will raid their pinecone caches later in the year. We got a big kick out of watching these little guys cut and pitch pine cones to the ground. Thy would rocket up a tree, work their way out to the end of the branch and begin to one by one cut each pine cone from the tree and throw it to make sure it fell to the ground. After working to cut and toss perhaps 10 to 20 pine cones they would come down the tree and scurry them off to their storage areas. They were upset that Rachel and I were just hanging around and clearly interfering with their chores. They didn’t mind us while they were cutting the cones, but when they came down to start collecting them, they were clearly irritated. And they would let us know it by climbing back up a tree, heading out to the end of a branch and then bark and carry on until they gave up and decided they had to get back to work. So they would come back down and start gathering the pinecones in spite of our presence. We also had quite the experience with a coopers hawk. Raptors are migrating this time of year and sometimes you get a chance to see something that is really cool. There was a cooper’s hanging out around our camp area that I had seen several times. Un like the squirrels he didn’t seem to mind up at all, this made me think that he was in migration from points north where he wasn’t familiar with people. He whacked a robbin right behind me while I was sitting on log then flew over to another log a few yards away and began to pluck it. That evening a great horned owl began to call and then I believe a borrowing owl joined in. I fell asleep listening to them calling from the edge of the near by meadow. We woke up to Glaciers very own alarm clock. One of the squirrels had perched right above our tent and was actually bouncing pine cones off of it. When he got ready to gather them up, he let loose such a chatter that I believe he winded himself. With that we got up and began to break camp, and prepare for our walk out.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033382008-09-28T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Glacier 3
<p><img src="webkit-fake-url://4B9DC39E-327C-4BF1-88CC-003DF10E0728/image.tiff" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="519" width="300" /></p>
<p>Glacier Cont. The Belly River trail head is located about 300 ft. south of the US/Canada border. We double-checked our gear, threw our packs on and off we went. The hike was about 6.5 miles into where we were going to spend the next two nights. Our intentions were to get to the camping area, set up our camp, knock around for a bit and take it easy for the rest of the day. We would be camping right next to the river and I thought I might fish a bit in the afternoon. The next day we planned to hike up to one of the mountain lakes and see if I could catch some dinner. The initial part of the hike was nearly all down hill. About 750ft of descent into the river valley, and then it was pretty level for the remainder of the walk. It was a beautiful day, although the weather report indicated a small change of showers later in the day. We started off going through mostly pines and fir trees until we got into the river valley and the forest gave way to aspen, cottonwood and large open meadows. As we worked our way into the valley we were afforded wonderful views of the surrounding mountains. It really was spectacular. When we got down to the river side, we took a break, got a bite to eat, and Rachel took a short nap while I fished a little bit. The water was incredibly clear and the silence was total except for the sounds of the stream and the rustle of the aspen leaves. We saw deer and elk track and moose tracks down on the streamside. After forty-five minutes or so of playing around in the water we geared back up and hit the trail. We walked into the camping area about 4:15 and found two other groups there. One group of four guys and a party of five folks who were employees of the park service. They were park biologists who were there to do some inventory and monitoring collecting aquatic insects and doing water chemistry. This kind of base line data is important for documenting changes in the parks’ ecosystem. One fellow from the first group had a University of Dayton shirt and we found out he was from St. Mary’s Ohio. Small world. The temperature was probably in the mid seventies and we were both pretty hot and tired, so we threw up the tent and got the food hung up. The park service provides food poles to hang your supplies from. There is also a food prep and eating area that is several hundred yards away from the sleeping areas. The idea is to avoid any smell of food around your tent incase a bear should happen by. Rachel crawled in the tent to take a nap and I walked down to the stream En route I walked by a rail-fenced pasture and a remote ranger station. The park service and visitors use horses and pack animals alike in the back country and this remote ranger station was used as a staging area for various park operations. (For example we found that the biologists had their field gear brought in and out by pack mules.) The little log house, outbuildings and fenced pasture were incredibly picturesque. And the pasture afforded a great view of Mount Cleveland, which is the highest peak in the park. A little ways down the trail there was a neat suspension bridge across the river. While I was walking down to check it out, I passed a husband and wife from the biologist group who had been swimming I the river. They were a hardy bunch, as that water is coming right off the snowfields on the mountains. I made a comment about how beautiful the day was, and the fellow said something like, yeah that’s gonna change. He obviously knew something I didn't. There was a tiny little clouds working it’s way around one of the mountaintops, but I thought it looks benign enough. I went back to camp and grabbed our water filter and a couple bottles to go get some drinking water. This is where I had what could have been a very bad experience. While I was sitting on the bank assembling the cool little Katadin water purifier, I dropped one of the components into the stream, when I jumped up to get that, I dropped one of the two rubber tubes into the stream and it was instantly swept away. I cut the remaining tube in half and all was well, but that is exactly how trouble starts, some unexpected event that can set a chain reaction in motion. By the time I made the water, the little cloud had expanded into this complete blanket of heavy gray fog that obscured of all of the mountaintops. In a matter of minutes a cold rain began falling and I was scurrying back to our tent to get the rain fly on and get the rest of our gear stored. Rachel got up and helped me get things together and we dashed back to our food supplies, dropped them down and grabbed dinner… a power bar for each of us! The rain was increasing and we could hear what sounded like a high-pitched jet engine off in distance. It was wind coming through the mountaintops and cascading down into the valley. We nestled down in the tent as the rain settled down into a steady downpour. While some folks might think this was a horrible situation, it really was enjoyable. We were both tired from the hike and there was really nothing to do but enjoy the moment. We talked about most everything, the future, the past and most of all, the humorous elements of the trip! The funniest so far, which occurred on the first night that we had stayed in the tent. It was the process I went through when I had gotten up in the middle of the night to relieve myself. Remember that I had taken my ultra lite sleeping bag and wound up sleeping in a liner, the bag and also a fleece bag. I had tried to get up without making a big stir. The process of finding all the zippers and struggling out of the many layers I was sleeping in was too much. Then after getting out of my sleeping arrangement finding the right zippers on the tent, crawling out of the tent on tired wobbly legs and standing up only to catch the rain fly on my back. This subsequently released a torrent of icy cold water right down my neck causing me to release a number of explicative phrases. Rachel confessed she was awake for it all and was afraid to laugh out loud for fear I might punch her. She said she had wanted to cry out camping nerd alert. We talked and told stories to each other until we finally fell asleep well after dark. I was awakened during the night by intense lighting and thunder. The lightening was incredible. You could hear the lightening strikes, and then the thunder. The lightening was like explosions followed by the rumble of the thunder. Occasionally there was the sound of the jet engine and then a great blast of wind would come up through the valley and shake the tent so severely that I wasn’t sure it would remain standing up. In the middle of the night, actually early morning, I remember thinking great! At last it has stopped raining! There was however a slow plop, plop plopping going on and I realized that, yes it had stopped raining, the rain however had turned to snow and snow was falling off of the trees onto the tent. I got up and looked outside to discover that we had perhaps three of more inches of snow on the ground and it was snowing quite hard. When I started to get back into my bag Rachel said “Dad there is something going on with this side of the tent.” I told her I had debated waking her up to tell her it was snowing. The tent was actually collapsing under the weight of the snow. So we began knocking the snow off of the tent. We did that two or three more times before sunrise. Between the rain and snow there was some form of precipitation for a total of 16 hours. It was perhaps the best part of the trip!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033372008-09-23T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Glacier 2
<p>Glacier Continued
That evening after our hike and back to Grinnell Glacier, I jumped in a little stream to do a bit of fishing.
While I had all the gear that we might need, fishing was really an afterthought for this trip.
I did not want to be consumed with anything besides just being there.
Sometime activities can help you enjoy a place, but I find they often keep me from truly taking everything in and they become a distraction unto themselves.
That being said, I took off wading down this little stream in my Tevas in pursuit of a trout. Buy the way that water is cold!
Generally speaking there are a number of trout located in this park. Cutthroat and Bull Trout are the native fish, and Rainbow and Eastern Brook Trout were introduced by stocking long ago.
It is a little different to fly fish in grizzly territory. For one thing you have to be quite focused on the fishing and you really need to maintain some focus on what is going on around you.
I have gotten myself into a jam one time in the Bahamas not paying attention to the tide while chasing a permit (fish) and found myself in the presence of bull sharks in water that was entirely too deep. But that is another story.
Let’s just say I really didn’t want to look up out of my fishing zone and find a bear standing behind me.
I was trying to do this multi-tasking kind of thing, casting, watching the fly line and drift, looking around when the sky opened up and a cold driving rain started falling.
So I trundled off toward the camp site on my stiff cold feet.
The rain didn’t last long and we fixed up a great meal of fresh local produce and hit the tent.
After our hike up the mountain and back we were pretty well wiped out, but not too tired to notice that the temperature was rapidly falling and it was spitting rain again.
Now Rachel is one of those people that get cold sitting in the shade of a tree on a 90 degree day and generally speaking I am not cold. However with her heavy sleeping bag and me with my light one I think we were evenly matched in the chill factor!
When we got up in the morning, there were frozen half drops all over the tent like those little sheets of colored penny candy. Quite pretty.
We spent a good part of the day and evening getting ready for the back packing portion of our trip and checking out bears on one side of the valley and mountain goats on the other.
We even had a white tail deer and fawn come into our camp while Rachle was getting ready to cook dinner.
That day we took it easy and recovered from our big hike the day before.
I have really bad ankles that are prone to getting very stiff if I don’t eat a steady diet of anti-inflamatory drugs of one kind or another. So it was a good thing to rest up a bit.
The hike up to the glacier was a sort of test to see how we would do with the altitude, the climb and descent and for me, the weight of the pack and my fussy ankles.
In addition to the local weather forecast this test was important to determine where we were going to go into the back-country.
We had tentatively chosen an 18 mile loop for a three day two night hike, but all the camp sites were pretty high in elevation and subject to much cooler weather and the change in elevation was over 2,000 ft.
After looking at out literature and talking with a couple of the staff we decided to go to option two which was the Belly River Drainage.
We would be camping at a lower elevation and there was only a 740 ft decent at the very beginning of the hike.
And with that in mind we secured our back country-packing permit for later in the week.
Before they give you one, by the way, the rangers ask you several questions about your gear and they make you watch a video on how to avoid being attacked by a bear and what to do if you are.
I did have some bear spray, which is this of high-octane pepper spray in a canister that reminded me of a small fire extinguisher.
I have been “maced†and pepper sprayed in training situations and I figured was enough pepper spray in that canister to knock about fifty people to the ground.
I couldn’t help but think they should tell everyone, Christ if you have to spray a bear, your are going to get sprayed yourself!â€Â
I didn’t see anything in the video about what you are supposed to do after you use the pepper spray and you have incapacitated yourself with the back draft.
I suppose while you are flopping around on the ground you are easy prey for Cougars.
I also found out from the video that should you be attacked by a black bear or a cougar, you are supposed to fight, (unless you have pepper sprayed yourself)
If it is a grizzly you are supposed to play dead, unless you think the bear was planning to eat you. Then you are supposed to fight like hell!!!
Yeah right!
I had already thought this through in my head, and my plan was to trip Rachel should she try to out run me.
Actually I knew all this stuff already and I had decided that if needed I was going to trip Rachel even before she started going to the personal trainer.
Later that evening we went to a very informative park program at the Many Glacier Lodge.
This is one of three rather mammoth wooden structures in the park that was built years ago.
It is a big controversy in the park service to keep 'em or tear em down.
Huge overhead.
The place gets shut down at the end of September and there is one care taker in the whole valley. Kind of like the “Shiningâ€Â!
Actually the general history of the park, of how all the lodges were built, the road to the sun, the story of the Native Americans of the region just added to our ability to enjoy the majesty of the place.
While the temps were in the thirties that night I think we had gotten our sleeping gear adjusted because we both slept very well.
We woke up to a heavy frost.
After breaking camp, we were off to the Belly.
This trail-head is right south of the Canadian border. I pretty good poke from Many Glacier.
We stopped at this little general store at Babb, and had an absolutely great breakfast at the Babb Press then drove the 15 or so remaining miles to the trail-head.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033362008-09-21T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Glacier Trip !
<p>It is a funny thing, the objects we surround ourselves with. I have these matches in my drawer, two books, one from the Baldwin Creek Motel, the other from the Adirondack League Club. Both souvenirs from fishing trips from many years ago. I touch them and I think of a time from the past. Each book brings up a memory rich in visions and recollections from that moment in time. One has no matches left, but the striker is good, the other still has several matches, but the striker was fouled from getting wet in my fishing vest. Together they are still serviceable, but separately they are worthless, except for the memories they bring to me. That is what I am writing about memories. Together I used them to light a cheap cigar as I settle in to write this little epistle. To help out, I also cracked open a bottle of Pinot Noir from Conneaut Cellars. This happens to be a very good wine from a family vineyard located in western Pennsylvania where I have performed at their patron appreciation picnic for every year since 1998, until this year, 2008. This year I opted out instead to take a trip with my daughter Rachel to Glacier National Park, and to create some new memories. I normally write a lot in the fall and winter in my barn, and this is really the first, introductory if you will effort for 2008. I couldn’t find a crock screw for the Pinot, so I used my Hatachi power drill and a deck screw to get the bottle opened. And I am drinking the wine from a martini glass….I have a few things to get in order in the barn to be ship shape for the winter! So now with the bottle opened and a Swisher Sweet smoldering in the tray I can begin to proceed with my entry of the evening. That is… the summary of our trip to Glacier. My children are dear and special people. They make me think of who I am and sometimes how I might have been or might be a better person. I think that is the value of children. Rachel is my middle child. Middle children, in case you don’t know always seem to vie for attention. Not the youngest, not the oldest, they are in the middle and they work hard for some special attention to call individuality unto them. Rachel is this way. So when she told me several months ago she wanted to do another trip with me, I noticed. She has always been drawn to the gadgetry of backpacking and the sense of adventure that comes with such trips. She told me she wanted to do a backpacking trip. Without a moments hesitation I committed. We discussed the possibility of Yellowstone, and then Rocky Mountain National Park. Rocky Mountain seemed especially promising as we know people who live near the park and it seemed like a natural choice. I thought the discussion was over when she called one day and said, “Dad, I think we should do Glacier. You always said you wanted to go to Glacier and that is where I think we should go.” I went along instantly, but I did tell her that Glacier has a lot of grizzly bears and that I had never had a good nights sleep when camping in bear country. She of course chided me for being afraid of bears. In a matter of a few weeks she was signed up with a personal trainer and I asked her if she was getting in shape with the thought of taking on a grizz. Of course she said no but she definitely wanted to be able to out run me. Smart kid! We set up a schedule where we were getting together nearly every week and hiking in local parks. The idea was to get an idea on what we felt comfortable in hiking on a reasonable day hike. The intention was good but our commitment was a little lacking… or should I say my commitment was a little lacking. I mean I walk a lot and I didn’t feel motivated to go out walking every weekend just to prove to myself that I can walk. We had a lot of fun going over gear selection, including food and figuring out what we needed, what we had and what we were taking. It seemed like no time until I was making travel arrangements. At first we wanted to take the train to the Glacier Apgar park gate, but the bus shuttles were questionable and the 26 hours on the train seemed a bit much. I opted for flying and renting a car. We were to leave Cleveland on Thursday Sept. the 4th, but the departing jets were jammed up due to hurricane Gustav so we lost day there. We didn’t leave until Friday. We flew to the airport in Kalispell, Montana late on Friday, picked up our car and drove straight away to the park. As Rachel would say, “The Majesty of it all!” was upon us. We got our week entrance pass to the park and returned to town to find a hotel. The next day we stopped at several local establishments to buy some essential gear, like a stove and some local produce, had a killer Montana breakfast, drove the Road to the Sun, and went up to Swift Current campground and threw up our tent. We took a day hike up to some waterfall, and on the way back to the campground saw the first of the several grizzly bears we would see on the trip. It was a sow and a cub, and they were on the talus slope behind the Swift Current Motel. We didn’t know it at the time but later we determined that the bears were pretty focused on eating huckle berries and the entire side of this slope was covered in them. As a matter of fact I am not so sure that you couldn’t have walked right up on the bears. Over the course of the next two days, we saw several bears in this area and it was really remarkable how intent they were on eating these berries. The bears would take their head and push the whole bush to one side, then wrap their tongue around a branch and strip the berries off as the bush returned to it’s normal position. This observation was made possible through the use of several spotting scopes that were set up by bear observers in the parking lot of the motel. Just a little side note about the motel. The Swift Current Camp Ground and the Swift Current Motel are at the end of a 12 mile road that closes down around the end of September. While these aren’t luxury accommodations, we discovered that the best public showers in the park are located here. Now considering that the park is 1500 square miles this is a pretty big deal. That night we nearly froze. We discovered that weather in Glacier is more fickle than fancy. It really depends on what side of the park you are on, how high you are and what funny little local condition may come to pass. While the weather forecast predicted highs in the mid 70’s and lows in the mid 40’s, ice on the tent in the morning seemed to indicated things were a bit cooler. I had taken a super light down bag rated to 40 degrees and had liner for it, so that gave me a few more degrees, and a fleece bag for wrapping up in around the fire at night…. I wound up sleeping in all of them. Consequently getting in and out of my sleeping arrangement was an act Houdini would have been proud of! (Rachel has more comments on this) The next day we took a really challenging day hike up toward Grinnel Glacier. It was about a 1600 foot climb and descent in elevation and was a good thing to do before securing our back country camping permit. I took my backpack on this hike just to see what it would feel like. The views were absolutely spectacular. In addition to glaciers we saw mountain goats, big horn Sheep, mule deer, moose, marmot, and just missed a wolverine. We walked through several piles of bear scat. That is a polite scientific way of saying there was bear shit all over the trail. The moose however stole the show, two cows and a calf cavorting in an alpine lake was pretty special. This is the end of installment Number One</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033352008-08-14T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00August 14 and 15th
<p>Bass Lake was nice last night, and I have to thank Steve Howell. Evidently there was some confusion in the schedule and he graciously let me perform.
Todays Sparx in the City was great.
Lots of traffic, good positive feed back and a nice way to close out my street performances...until the Gallery Hop. Which is coming up in September!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033342008-08-09T20:00:00-04:002022-03-19T06:35:40-04:00Darke County Park District Gig
<p>I really enjoyed being able to get back to southwest Ohio to do a performance for the Darke County Park District.
I played a two hour show at the Shawnee Prairie Nature Center for a about a hundred people.
The stage location at the nature center takes advantage of a natural geologic land-form called a Kame.
That is basically a gravel deposit formed when the last glacier was retreating.
The hillside makes a natural amphitheater where folks sat on lawn chairs and enjoyed the music and the bugs.
I just love the laid back atmosphere provided by the surrounding agricultural lands and the ambience of the deep history that covers the land.
The park is situated where Fort Greenville was located.
The sky for the drive down and back was incredibly dramatic.
Mj and I drove the back roads back home for a great part of the trip and enjoyed taking in the country side and the many small towns were drove through.
Thanks Mandy for putting it together and having me back again.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033332008-08-07T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Gamekeepers/Sparx/CoolCleveland
<p>Wednesday I was doing the background music set at Gamekeepers Inn. I approach this as a very laid back gig.
I generally don’t even introduce the songs I am playing.
After all it is such a nice patio, there really isn’t much to do except add a little ambiance! Anything more than that would be overbearing.
This gives me a nice opportunity to play through many of the new tunes I am working on.
For whatever reason, I had a number of old friends appear that I hadn’t seen in a while, and met some new one too.
It really was a great night for the kind of gig that it is.
When I got home I found out that Arrow Creek had been reviewed by CoolCleveland. I have posted the brief review on my press page or you can check it out directly by going to
http://www.coolcleveland.com/index.php?n=main.current
Last night I did a Sparx in the City set down on west 6th. All sorts of folks were hustling to the Browns preseason game, including Lance, Cindie and Gary.
I can’t say it was perfect venue, but Sparx is a great program to get performing arts on the city streets.
I wasn’t sure what the weather was going to do and sure enough around 8:10 a big blow came ashore and thanks to Stephanie and Sean I was able to get everything out of the storm.
Looking forward to the Darke County Park District performance tomorrow night in Greenville Ohio.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033322008-08-02T20:00:00-04:002021-06-29T05:40:01-04:00Vintage Ohio
<p>I played at two different venues at Vintage Ohio yesterday.
The Lake Metroparks Farm Park is a great setting for this event. Multiple stages, all sorts of music, well over ten thousand people for each day of the two day event.
My first show was 3-6 at the fine arts tent, and it was a very pleasant setting.
Nice spot for people to sit eat lunch and drink their wine.
Other than a bit of cross bleed from the bigger stages it was near perfect.
Met a bunch of folks and had an enjoyable time.
The second venue at the "wine store" check out area was 6-9 and I was in a big rush to get from one place to another so I just threw my stuff up behind the check out tables.
I provided ambiance for the folks waiting to process their sales.
Passed out 2008 schedules and made several contacts with many new wineries.
Hopefully will set the stage for some future performance opportunities.
I missed playing at Wertzstock. the big home town bash, but I am sure they had a good time without me.
Hopefully I'll make it next year!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033312008-07-27T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Brothers
<p>I have a number of brothers, three biological brothers and several others that fit that brotherly category.
Dave Noble the park systems current director and I have worked together for nearly twenty years and worked on things together for even longer.
Dave has biological brothers too, and one day in the office when we were sharing notes about our brothers it dawned on me that he and I have spent more time together as adults than we have spent with our brothers.
Sort of an interesting revelation.
I have several musical brothers that I have made a lot of music with.
Vance Wissinger is one of several. Vance and I have done hundreds of gigs together, seen a lot of things go down and Vance and I can tell a few stories.
Some of these associations have come about as a function of time spent together and others have some other sort of “connectionâ€Â. For example Bob Hollister and I have not played nearly so much together but for whatever reason are still connected.
A few years ago I ran into Alex Bevan. I had met Alex at Miami University just in passing, and we got re acquainted some fifteen years later.
Alex and I have played a bit a music, worked on a few projects, helped each other out from time to time, and I am happy to say we are pretty good buds.
This past week, while I was transferring tunes from disk to the computer, I noticed how Alex had signed the disk he gave me last fall. It is a lovely project called Fall and Angels.
It said To Steve a brother in music.
Well this weekend Alex came to my rescue like a big brother.
I was playing at the Lake House, and the deck was packed. Simply packed.
Instead of setting up in the corner, I had to set up on the end.
After I had everything set up, I went to pull my PA mixer back a bit and stepped on the mic cable as I was picking it up.
As simple as that seems, it was enough to trash the cable.
NO big deal, I always have a couple spares in the bag or stashed in the car……not this time.
Alex lives down the way so I called him and left a message.
After exhausting a few other alternatives, I started to do an instrumental set.
Word came that Alex was on his way!
In a few minutes, like a big brother to the rescue, Alex came bounding down the stairs cable in hand and said “I was in the shower when you called, I am between gigs, up from Akron and on the way to Eastlake. Here you go.â€Â
Of course I said thanks, and also “Ladies and gentlemen, thanks to Alex Bevan, I now can sing.â€Â
Which prompted the front table to ask Are you kidding is that Alex Bevan?
Sure I said.
One guy jumped up and said “Let me get my picture taken with him!â€Â
So being the ever-obliging, but ever rushing Grammy winning soul that he is, Alex stopped to pose with this guy.
It was quite the buzz for the next few minutes.
So like the perfect big bro, he not only saved my butt but graciously added a nice dimension to the show by just being there.
Thanks Alex!!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033302008-07-25T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Half way through a four night string
<p>Bass Lake was really nice this week.
Perfect weather and a good group of folks showed up. Nice to see Pat and her gang from Akron. A great surprise. And I got to learn about the upcoming Hobo convention in Brit Iowa. Far out! Who knew?
Last night I did a pick up gig with Al and Andrew Bonnis and Randy the percussionist at the Chester Tavern. It was a great time to play with a band and by the end of the night we had a pretty good groove happen.
Tonight is the Lake House, and then tomorrow is the Little Mnt Heritage Fest. and I'll be a tired old dog. Aint no pup no more!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033292008-07-21T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Sharing the Summer Doldrums
<p>The summer doldrums was a term that sailors used to describe a windless period that would set in during the middle of the summer. Stuck on a big sailing vessel in the middle of the ocean in the hottest part of the summer doesn't seem like a lot of fun to me. However sailors practiced all sorts of things to while the time away waiting for the weather to change and the wind to return.
I thought about this after playing last Saturday at the Old FIre House.
It was stifling hot, humid and there wasn't a hint of breeze coming off of the lake.
I connected with the crowd on my very first tune but had to stop to adjust the PA a bit, and lost them just that quickly.
The remainder of that set and for the next two was touch and go. It was just to hot and humid to be comfortable outside unless you were just sitting still.
I really couldn't expect people to get too thrilled about anything I was doing, and just had to hope they were sitting there and enjoying themselves.
It's moments like this when you wonder to yourself "What am I doing this for?"
And then some one comes up and says, "We Are really enjoying your music." And suddenly it all seems worth it.
In the third set percussionist Dave Hunter and his wife Shelly showed up and it was nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.
Interestingly I had a hat on that Dave had given me. I just had a hunch they would show up.
For the fourth set, the breeze kicked up, the crowd engaged and I finished up feeling pretty good about the day.
And sailed away from the summer doldrums.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033282008-07-19T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00I set up a blog
<p>This is a more flexible format to work with. Check it out!
http://madewellmusic.blogspot.com/</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033272008-07-18T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Deer on the Grill
<p>It is mid July.
One of my friends Bert Carlisle always used to say that after the fourth of July the summer was winding down. For me it is just arriving.
It is very hot outside. I was in my late twenties when I realized that July was the hottest month of the year. Up until then I had mistakenly blamed August for my summer misery.
Generally speaking I don’t like hot weather, or should I say in my younger years I didn’t like hot weather. My disposition seems to be turning ever so slightly.
Due to the day’s hot temperatures it seemed like a good night to cook outside, and it just so happened that I had venison roast thawed in the refrigerator.
So after a brief bath in a bit of olive oil and some seasonings, it has made it’s way to the grill and I am killing time while the roast cooks.
I simply can’t do a roast on the grill with out thinking of Gary Pack.
Gary and Linda were friends of ours when we were down in Greene County Ohio. They split up shortly after we moved to Geauga County and we lost touch. I think Gary spends some time in Costa Rica every year but other than that I haven’t a clue what he is up to now and I don’t know what has become of Linda.
Gary had an amazing comprehensive ability. He was one of few people that I have met that can read some thing and then just do it.
He had gotten into deer hunting somewhat late in life, and at that point in history the deer population had not yet exploded in the eastern United States.
It was a big deal just to see a deer in the early 80’s in Ohio, especially in the southwest part of the state where we lived.
Working as a Ranger Naturalist (bar musician) I was never really “fiscally solventâ€Â, and Mj and I were always scavenging just to eat. I really mean it.
Before the kids came along, well actually let me rephrase that, when the kids were still little there were times we collected returnable pop bottles for the refund to buy bread and eggs.
That is when we coined the term bottle assets. As long as we had returnable pop bottles under the kitchen sink we had “bottle assetsâ€Â.
So yes things were a little tight and I’m sure you get the picture.
Whenever I got a deer, it was a wonderful thing, and we were committed to making every meal count.
It wasn’t long until Mj and I had both developed some very good approaches to cooking venison
I had also learned some very important rules for dealing with venison. First deer fat and marrow tastes bad and goes rancid quickly. Second, when the meat is over cooked it gets tough and tastes gamey, and finally how you butcher a deer is pretty important.
We concluded that when prepared properly venison is so delicious that it was really a travesty to grind any meat into burger.
Ironically, many people we know think that is the most practical way to prepare a deer because they don’t like the taste of the steaks and the roasts. So they grind the whole thing up and use it in chili and spaghetti sauce.
It was early January when Gary stopped by my office to tell me that he had killed his first deer. He had shot it with a muzzle-loading rifle and was on his way to the butcher.
I asked him how he was going to have it butchered, and of course he said he was going to have it ground up into burger because he didn’t care for the taste of venison other wise.
I told him that was a huge mistake, and that I would bet a pay check that he wouldn’t regret following the directions I was about to tell him.
Gary by the way paid more in taxes every year than I grossed in annual income so the bet meant a heck of a lot more to me than it did to him.
Much to his chagrin and with a great deal of persuasion on my part, I had convinced him to give the butcher my instructions.
A few weeks later Gary and Linda were over at the house for dinner and I knew that Gary’s deer was still at the butcher.
Ohio typically has what is called the January thaw and we were enjoying the warm weather we were grilling hamburgers on the grill.
Before everyone sat down to eat I slipped back outside and threw a venison roast on the grill and covered it. The charcoal had burnt down and there was a nice, very low even heat.
A few hours later I grabbed a saltshaker and a sharp knife and ask Gary to “Come check this outâ€Â. It was well past dark by this time and Gary couldn’t see what I was carving on, or how rare the meat was. I will never forget his response, as he tasted it.
He couldn’t believe it was venison. So he called for Linda and Mj and the three of us stood in the dark and ate the roast as I carved it into bite size pieces.
It is funny how certain memories come to mind from such events. But I am thankful that they do. Yet another reason for me to be grateful for the deer I killed this year and the memories that it has brought back to me tonight as I have prepared it.
The roast should be about done.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033262008-06-30T20:00:00-04:002022-03-16T06:25:16-04:00People I have worked with
<p>People that I have played music with.
There are a whole lot of folks that I have played music with in various and sundry musical pursuits, and for some time I have thought about listing them.
I don’t know why other than a tribute to things that they gave me in the experiences that we had.
Some of them no longer play or are no longer with us. There are some I may have omitted. But here is starting with the first Garage Band. These are grouped by bands, some of which I can no longer remember the name, or by era, and some names reappear cause I played with em in several incarnations:
West Milton 1969
Jeff Butts
Terry Penkal
Scott Flowers
1970
Tim Mote
JD McKnight
1971 Wissingers’ Palace
Steve Penkal
Vance Wissinger
Rick Gowdy Tim Mote
Craig Foreman
John Tomlinson
Wayne Jackson
Dave Everhart
Tim Mote
Steve Penkal
Larry (Murf) Burnette
Tim Mote
Bob Gross
1974 Doc Holiday
Dennis McDowell
Larry Taylor
Mark Hilt
Dave Hilt
Joe Rosenbaum
Vance Wissinger
John Rhoer
Kevin Bert
Gary Kurvis
1975-78
Oxford Years
Rich Scheurmann
Kurt Anderson
Mark Grieger
Kurt Anderson
Caroline Quine
Vance Wissinger
Fred Rice
Dave Young
Zutty Sekora
1979 @ The Trolly Stop years
Vance Wissinger
Tim McKenzie
Steve Hampton
Dan Cel
Astrid Socrates
Scotty Robinson
Greg Hawhee
Dougie the Drummer
Doug Hoskins
Doug Hamilton
1980 Roy Calhoun Band (The Trophy Club Experience)
Roy Calhoun Hawse
Vance Wissinger
Rick Gowdy
Roy Calhoun Band second edition
Craig Schaffer
Chris Bresenski
Pat Hailey
The Steve Madewell Band
Astrid Socrates
Bill Baldock
Michael Clutter
Vance Wissinger
Paul North
Late As Usual various members
Al Bonnis
Vance Wissinger
Chris Otto
Donnie Philips
Mark Mutterspah
Drew Bonnis
The First Pat Dailey Band
Pat Dailey
Alex Bevan
Tommy Dobeck
Ron Jarvis
The Madewell Brothers Band
Jeff Madewell
Mike Gross
Vance Wissinger
Ron Randal
Recent efforts and a number of incidental and recording occurrences
Todd Blum
Billy Lesstock
Bill Watson
Bob Hollister
Caroline Quine
And other I just haven’t mentioned.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033252008-06-13T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00A river with a broken heart.
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392484/f1237c23470b53fe21b872c65623bf8d971522ed/original/anotherriverlunchshot.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzY4eDI3NiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="anotherriverlunchshot.jpg" height="276" width="368" />Caroline Quine was in town this week to visit her family in Akron and she and I thought it would be fun to perform together if we could. We were hoping to do a few of the tunes we used to play in college and some of the songs off of Arrow Creek if she could make it up here to one of my shows. I had a Thursday night date at Basslake Tavern that worked perfectly so she and her immediate family Douglas, Hazel and Pearl came up to spend a few nights here in the valley with Mj and I. It was incredibly supportive of Douglas and their two teenage girls to take a few days of summer vacation in order for mom to sing a couple songs with her old buddy Steve. Consequently I was hoping we could do a few things that would provide a good time. Thursday afternoon we went canoeing/kayaking down the wild and scenic Grand River. My buddy Tom who runs Raccoon Run Canoe rentals estimated our trip to be about two to two and a half hours. We got in the water about 1:15 and it seemed that I should have plenty of time to get back to set up for our performance. A length of a river trip depends on several things; skill level, how hard you paddle and on water levels. This time of year the Grand can drop really fast and when that happens a two-hour trip can become a five-hour trip. And that is what happened. We had two canoes and one kayak for the five of us and as we neared the mid way point I knew I was not going to be able to make my schedule. I decided to take the kayak and sprint down the stream for the next 4 or 5 miles to our take out. So I paddled ahead and left everyone to enjoy themselves at a more leisurely pace. Now I spent most of my time on the river between October and May and I almost never get on the river in the warmer months. And Tom is one of my go to guys for finding out what is happening on the river during the summer. He was telling me that it is not too unusual to see bear along the Grand when the berries are ripe, and we know that there are several eagle nests on the river. I didn’t see the eagles this trip but I could hear the juveniles caring on begging for food at one of the nest sites. I came upon a deer drinking at streamside, I glided under a great blue heron, had an oriole fly by and I noticed an otters den. Small-mouth bass were chasing minnows and a host of other wonderful life and death dramas were going on around me. It was really hot and the sun was bright, and it wasn’t long before I noticed I had missed a strip of skin on my right leg with the sunblock. (It amazes me how that stuff works) I started paying attention to the course I was taking down stream looking to take advantage of the shade and at that time I noticed something that made my heart sink. I realized that there was not a single sycamore tree along the river that was fully leafed out. I have several sycamore trees in my yard and knew that there was an anthracnose affecting them. I have been so busy at work and at home that I hadn’t thought about what effect this was having along the river. Sycamores are those big white trees that grow along waterways through out the Midwest, and I wrote about them briefly in an early essay on the wood that we cut into lumber. They are the largest and dominant plant along our streams and are the anchor of that ecosystem. Among other things they shade the stream and keep the water cool, and there are a host of aquatic creatures that depend on moderate water temperatures. As with all things the connectivity factor is often over looked. If rocks are the bones of the river and the water is the blood, then sycamores must be the heart, pumping moisture back into the atmosphere through transporation. My rivers heart appeared to be broken. These have always been one of my favorite trees for so many reasons and to be paddling by mile after mile of them in decline was just emotionally devastating. It is becoming increasingly apparent that the global ecology is rapidly changing, not only from things like climate change but also in the introduction of regional non native plants and animals, the rebounding populations of certain species and the rapid decline of others. I remember when I was a youngster a line of four large American Elm trees dying in our back yard from Dutch Elm blight, and how upset my father was about this. When I got older I heard about the decline of the American Chestnut. Both situations were regarded as such tragedies. The elms lined the streets in many cities and towns across the Midwest, and when they died these tree-lined streets were forever changed. Chestnut was regarded as a remarkable rot resistant wood that was easy to work with. It was regarded as the red wood of the east. In recent years there has been a great deal of awareness about emerald ash borer and the demise of the American ash trees. I have ash flooring in my house. I can’t help but wonder if in years to come it will be regarded as a rare wood. I had no idea, or should I say I hadn’t thought about the impact of this anthracnose on sycamore. But it was like seeing a part of the river dying. I don’t know what the prognosis is. I don’t know if this means certain fatality for these trees or not. I had an unbelievable feeling of helplessness as I kayaked down the river. It was like the times when I have sat and talked with someone I cared for after a break up or a loss. Where I have been trying to reassure myself as well as my friend that they will live through the crisis while knowing they will never quite be the same. Sycamore Anthracnose is a type of fungus and if you want to know more about it you can visit http://ohioline.osu.edu/hyg-fact/3000/3048.html) P6120002.jpg</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033232008-05-25T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00I GOT BEES
<p>The first gig of the year at the Firehouse Winery, I had the pleasure of meeting Ken and Lorry. They like my music and they wanted to know if I was a teacher or had a degree in a
philosophy. We started talking and the next thing you know Ken was telling me he was had an apiary. I haven't had any bees in years. Today Ken and lorry stopped in with a hive of beens for me and Yippie Skippie boys I am in business!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033222008-05-25T20:00:00-04:002021-12-15T07:50:48-05:00Birding!
<p>Location location location!
It would be a rare individual that does not have an idea what bird migration is about, but an even rarer one who completely understands it
I suppose to most folks the term bird migration conjures up images of giant flocks of waterfowl or shore birds that they have seen on Nature or Nova or they might recall the image of a flock of geese.
To me I have this process similar to the dictionary where I go down a mental checklist of definitions or images. I don’t go too far down the list associated with bird migration until I see or think of warblers.
They are these lovely little jewels that fly around in the treetops and sub canopy in the spring. They appear in this part of the world around the 10th of May.
There are all sorts of warblers with their own special beak and behavioral adaptations to make the best of where they happened to hang out.
And some are exceptionally beautiful.
I never really learned warblers. Maybe I didn’t have the time, the mentor or maybe the predisposition.
Well let me say I never thoroughly learned them. I knew and still know some of the more common ones, yellow rumped or butter butts as they are called, or the hooded warbler, another very showy bird.
I used to see them all the time when I was leading the occasional bird hike back in Greene County.
Whatever the reason I always appreciated the ability of bird enthusiast to not only identify what seems to be an endless array of bird by sight but often also by sound or call.
Generally you can tell dedicated birders or at least people who hang out with dedicated birders. At the sake of profiling let’s just say when they are in the field they have a certain look. And that is OK cause most enthusiasts do.
The majority of outdoor activity surveys I am familiar with have confirmed that wildlife observation is one of the nation’s top, if not the top recreational activity.
These are surveys conducted by a whole host of conservation organizations. They lump casual wildlife observation right in there with the die-hard nature geeks.
(Don’t worry I haven’t offended anyone, although I don’t fit the bill of a birder, I am enough of a nature geek to get by with using this self descriptive term)
Good birders are a dedicated bunch. They will drive miles to see the unusual occurrence of a bird that is out of range. They spend tons of money on gear and clothing, eco tourism and the whole stick, not to mention birdseed, feeder’s houses and so on.
A few years ago a fascinating lady left the park system nearly a million bucks to build a bird sanctuary. So I have wanted to go check out a couple Ohio birding hot spots to see what we should try to accomplish.
It had been years since I had been over to the Crane Creek Area of Ohio, which is a known birding Mecca, and I jumped at the suggestion that my friend Ann had regarding a birding road-trip.
She was in charge of scheduling the next outing for our social/enrichment club. It is called the Society for Intellectual Stimulation.
We coordinated our schedules with another of our SIS members Dan and off we went abirding.
Not only do Dan and Ann know about birds, they know their bird business and they also know the business of birds. What organization does what for whom and who is better at providing what services.
It was very cool to get the inside from a couple pros.
I haven’t been on a bird trip in years and it was a gas. First of all the companionship was great, secondly Ann brought all this dark chocolate and double stuffed Oreos!
Now granted my sources of indulgences are often from a bottle and not appropriately consumed while driving or early in the morning.
Hmmm although there has been a time or two when I have lived out the theme of that great old song that says lord forgive us and protect us we’ve been drinking whiskey for breakfast!
Anyway back to birding….wired by chocolate, motivate by good conversation and ramped up on several cups of java we were on the boardwalk armed with binocs and talking our fool heads off.
In a matter of minutes we had seen more species than I could keep track of, and seen a half a dozen stalwart of the birding community.
Now I have my theories on successional evolution and how resource managers have to think in big historical terms when we are managing resources in Ohio.
I wanted to check some things out with regards to the facility design but I was also going to reaffirm the significance of the geology and the geographic location of these birding hotspots. In other words I think we can make a pretty cool area with this donated money but I wanted to see just what we might expect with regards to bird utilization…
There is a reason that those places are there.
They are located on major flyways that birds have utilized for years, and people took advantage of them for hunting purposes for years, and some decades ago, some people got something’s right and protected some relatively small chunks of property that is incredibly valuable bird real-estate!
As the old mantra goes, Location Location Location. And I was seeing it again for the first time in years.
We left Crane Creek, stopped in the little visitor center, got lunch, ran up to Ottawa, hit that visitor center, checked out an eagle on the nest with it’s baby and ate more chocolate.
Gee what fun!
The mission was a success on all fronts, but I couldn’t help but think how bird watching can be like an art form.
Wait, before I say this I must also say it can be and is often approached as a science.
More people might better appreciate it if it was more like an art form…
Let me explain my analogy. An artist is always looking for sources of inspiration, some come as a big flashy spotting, but others have to be looked for and then recognized for what they are.
And suddenly there it is a little jewel of color and light flitting, flitting, flitting and then it is gone.
And while it can mean so much to the individual, it can mean so much to so many when shared. And even the most common and routine occurrence may have beauty and value for those not quite so accomplished.
Keep looking you might spot a warbler.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033212008-05-25T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00American Lacewood
<p>Flood Wood
This week I hired a sawyer to bring up his portable saw mill and cut up about 2,000 board foot of lumber. These were logs that were the result of the flood.
I had several trees that were damaged or washed down from up stream.
In the initial clean up we hauled away 6 large dump trucks full of wood that I couldn’t use or salvage, but the big clear logs I saved.
I also had to take a few trees down when we went to rebuild the house, which resulted in some additional logs as well.
So for nearly two years two piles of logs have been out by the barn, one a pile for either fence posts or firewood, and the other for milling into lumber.
The largest tree that we cut down was a big sycamore. The butt log is close to three feet across. I couldn’t move it much farther than from where fell, so it is still up by the house.
There were however several ten foot logs that came out of that tree.
I have always loved sycamore trees. Their distinctive white, green and brown bark, huge size and tendency to have hollow cavities just give them a great deal of character.
Some times children mirror our value and behavior, and when Philip was just a toddler, he was always asking if this or that tree was a big old sycamore.
So I guess my fascination for these big riverside plants was passed on to him.
There was one large sycamore at the Narrows Reserve on the Little Miami River that I walked by hundreds of times. It’s giant root system hung out over and extended down into the water making wonderful habitat for the fish and animals in the stream.
The portion of the root system that was out of the water was utilized by other animals for hiding places and homes.
This was a giant tree, maybe 10-foot around. They get really big.
Supposedly a fellow had a black smith shop set up in a hollow one along the Ohio River, and during the civil war there is a story of four confederate spies hiding inside a hollow sycamore…
with their horses.
There are no giants like this in Ohio any more but maybe some day there will be again.
Anyway I used to wonder what all the big tree on the Little Miami had seen.
Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton surely walked underneath it as well as Tecumseh and Blue Jacket on their way to and from Kentucky into the heartland of Ohio.
If trees could talk, what stories they could tell?
Once I was leading a guided hike with a group of second graders down the river and noticed a black rat snake’s head looking out from one of the root hollows. I thought the kids might like to take a look at it, so I got down on my stomach and gently pulled him out.
The snake kept coming and coming until all of his nearly six foot body was wrapped around my arms.
So I guess you could say that sycamores can have lovely little surprises!
That is what I found when researching what I could do with the wood from this beautiful tree I had to cut down.
I have heating my house with wood in years past, and have cut split and burned a lot of wood.
I have come to realize that there is a lot of scrap and wasted wood available for burning and to me it seems a shame to simply burn up a tree that could be used for so much more.
I didn’t know much about sycamore wood other that it has a high water content when it is green.
In doing a little looking on the internet, I discovered that when it is quarter sawn it has a spectacular grain and used to be called American lace wood. I also found out that years ago it was commonly used for guitars and instruments.
Now I was on to something. I could get one of my guitar building buddies to make me a guitar from some quarter sawn sycamore. That seemed like a great idea.
So that was what I was thinking when I asked my new friend Alan to bring his portable saw mill down and saw up my logs.
I also thought I might be able to panel the inside of the barn and maybe make some furniture with some of the wood as well.
After we got the mill set up we started cutting, first slabbing off the bark and squaring up the log.
And then we began cutting off boards. It is remarkable how exciting it can be as the grain patterns in the boards are revealed with each cut. The quarter-sawed material was spectacular.
In addition to the sycamore we also cut some ash and elm logs. Which is partially stacked on my trailer waiting to be moved into the barn. Where it will air dry for several months before being used for whatever it ultimately will be.
The last time I did this sort of thing was when we remodeled the house and will milled an ash tree into flooring.
Here are the lyrics to a song I wrote about that experience and I hope to record soon:
This Old Wooden Floor
SWM 2008
I remember very well the fall day we cut it down
The ash tree standing by the barn
We laid it on the ground
Matty came to help me out just to settle up a score
We cut the her into 8 foot logs to make this old wood floor
****
Charles brought his sawmill the logs we cut to boards
I stacked them up inside the barn and stored it all indoors
In the spring I went to Hartsgrove
to old Joe's drying kiln
He dried the planks we hauled them off to an Amish Mill
****
I picked em up and brought them home
Boards planned down so true
The clearest ash you'd ever seen was milled to tongue and groove
David cut and nailed em down and we sanded them so smooth
Coated them with Waterlox when this old floor was new
It looked so fine when we were done My God it looked so good
It was the pride of MJ's home this old floor of wood
In the summer of 2006 there came a great big flood
The water rose and when it fell
left a foot of silt and mud
Friends they came from all around to see what we might need
We had to gut the our whole house right down to studs and beams
****
Al and Andrew cut the nails from each and every board
I stacked it up and once again I hauled this old wood floor
Off to Ricky's Warehouse, on the other end of town
And there is sat for 6 long months until we could put it down
No one would believe it
but every word I say is true
When we nailed it down a second time it looked mighty good
Now the children sitting at my feet ask me to once more
Tell them all the story of this old wooded floor
If the dogs may scratch I don’t care As they run out the door
So many things I’ve been through with old wooden floor
I say a prayer for every hand that touched this old wood floor.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033242008-04-28T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Twang Towne Ezine Interview
<p>This was an interview with me that focused on Arrow Creek and my approach to writing and pruduction
The whole article is on my press page or you can go directly to it by cutting and pasting this link.
http://twangtown.wordpress.com
Singer/songwriter Steve Madewell uses dramatic textures to enhance song experiences
Written by Carson James
To these ears, Steve Madewell is a painter as well as a musician. Too often in this genre, we give such an emphasis on the craft of songwriting that we neglect the creativity needed for the arrangements. Not so with Madewell. Here is an artist who spent as much time and effort into making every track on his album Arrow Creek sparkle like his words. Let’s take a trip into Madewell’s world, one that spans historical events and geographical territories.....</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033202008-04-14T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00The Sense of Wonder NAI Talk
<p>The Sense of Wonder NAI Talk - April 15, 2008
The Sense of Wonder
People have asked me where do I get inspirations and ideas for songs.
Partially from spending a few years doing environmental education programs.
I recently did a talk for the National Association of Interpretive Naturalist Region 4 workshop. And it was one of those presentations that will get better if I do it again.
You might recognize interpretive naturalists as the folks who lead nature walks at parks and nature centers. However they do a great deal more.
This is a partial narrative from that presentation and kind of give insight into these experiences and how I think:
Thank you for the opportunity to speak to you this afternoon.
I am very flattered to be a part of the NAI and I am truly happy to be here.
I feel that what you contribute to our collective conservation efforts is so very very important.
What I hope to do today is to share some observations that I collected for this presentation.
And like many things of this nature some of these concepts maybe rather obvious, and others maybe a bit more elusive. But my hope is that I can offer these up to you and perhaps they maybe of value in the course of your life's work.
Oh and should you have any questions or comments or if you take issue at any point with what I maybe saying, or if an analogy is not clear, please by all means feel free to interject your thoughts.
I would welcome your comments and having spent a little time around interpreters, I have not found them to be a shy bunch.
Currently I work as the Deputy Director of Lake Metroparks, and I have been involved with park administration for well over twenty-five years.
However when I entered the field it was never my goal to get into the administrative side of the business.
I have always enjoyed being outside and in some regards I feel it is unfortunate that I am mostly in doors.
It simply had never occurred to me to consider a career in the field of conservation until I had a summer job at Nature Center.
I grew up in an out door sort of family. My father was, and still is at 84 a gardener, a hunter and a fisherman.
Some of my earliest memories are of working in the garden and the excitement of going fishing.
I can vividly recall looking into a bucket full of water at a bluegill waving his fins when I was between two and three years old.
So you folks who are doing programs for young children. I can tell you that some of those experiences are certainly retained.
Dad was predominately a stream fisherman. We would go fishing, wading in the small streams across SW Ohio.
He would set me up with a fishing pole, strap a small pail of worms around my neck tell me not to step in water so deep I couldn't see my tennis shoes and that if I needed him he would be around the next bend.
I generally wouldn't see him for the rest of the day.
He is also a Euell Gibbons kind of guy, hunting mushrooms and used to pull the car off of the road stop to gather wild apples and other edibles. A behavior that was passed on to me (much to the chagrin of my family)
It is interesting how our mind can recall certain things. Whatever reason at the moment they occur they have some sort of impact that will always be with us.
I remember Pop holding a no deposit no return glass bottle when they first came out, and saying "This make no sense".
I also remember driving around the ever growing suburbs of Dayton and Dad pointing to shopping centers and saying, "I used to hunt rabbits there".
So I grew up with a conservation ethic al be it perhaps not in a traditional sense.
It wasn't one of supporting the local park system although we used them. The only time I had been to a nature center was in third grade.
But if I were to distill the ethic I grew up with it might be best described as " waste is not a good thing", and “the world will feed you if you know it and take care of itâ€Â.
Like a lot of kids growing up in a rather rural setting I was outside a great deal of the time.
Generally speaking I was really bored in school and felt somewhat trapped. I started playing guitar in jr high and I like to think music gave me a focus that kept me out of any real trouble.
Although that might be a relative statement as I nearly got expelled for making gun powder with supplies we pilfered from the Chem Lab and I was involved in one pretty bad tractor wreck. I was just riding on the tractor that Mike Maynard drove into a house on the last day of school my sophomore year. But that is another story.
I went to the now defunct Western College of Miami University which was an interdisciplinary college. The college was based on three core courses Natural Systems, Social Systems and Creativity and Culture. And the simple premise that these three areas of study were related and empowered by the synergy of their inter actions.
The first physics problem I worked on was calculating how many tons of sulfuric acid was being produced and spewed in to the air by Dayton Power and Light every week.
I found the inundation of negative environmental material thrown at me my freshmen year to be over whelming and incredibly depressing.
And that was the summer I got the job at a nature center. Though it wasn't a very glamorous one.
I was literally hired to baby sit the children of Hispanic migrant workers.
I believe that the Nature Center had gotten a grant to provide summer programs to these children and I was primarily hired to look after 45-60 kids, some of which could not speak English for three or four hours a day. Some times there was a morning group and an evening group.
This was three or four days a week and I was to keep them from interfering with the regular activities of the center.
What did I do with them? Well I felt compelled to instill a value for the nature center and to do activities that were non intrusive.
It was really pretty cool. These kids were jazzed to be there and their observation skills knew no boundaries.
I don't think they had been dulled up by watching endless television. I didn’t know anything about environmental education and they didn’t know
anything about nature centers so we were perfect for each other. We had limited structure and we learned together and it was amazing what they discovered and what they taught me.
I had read a book called The Lives of Children by George Dennison which was about an alternative approach to education. It had a premise of losing time to gain time and that is what I did with these children. We approached each day with a very open structure. We celebrated an experience of mutual discovery.
One of the boys, was the “Alpha male†of the group if you know what I am talking about. His English was very good so I gave him the job of being my interpreter.
The summer job at the nature center was a great experience in so many ways and this really was a pivotal time in my life.
First I knew that I had had a miserable educational experience in jr. high and high school and I recognized that I simply didn't learn the way that I had been taught. Secondly I knew that I was deeply concerned about the environment. And finally here I was having this experience at this nature center where there was a different approach to education, oriented toward things that I cared about and according to all the regular staff there, I seemed to be good at it.
So that summer experience between my first and second year of college provided me with an insight that perhaps there was something I could do to help bring a greater awareness to people regarding what we were doing to our world.
After that I knew I wanted to be involved with environmental conservation in some way.
The Topic
So with that bit of a personal intro and narrative I would like to move on to the topic at hand
But before I do can I ask is there anyone here that feels that this career is a calling?
I recognize that the field has matured and developed,
And often times when this begins to happen with career tracks things change. And I was hoping that some new entries into the field could give me a read on this.
Do you feel that it is a privilege to be in this field?
At the time I got my first full time position I remember reading that there were as many as 85 applications for every entry level position.
We were in the height of what I call the John Denver era when there were a lot of people who wanted to work in the great out of doors.
After 30 years I still think of this career as a calling and I still feel it is a privilege to work in this field. I am proud of my job and my contribution and I sincerely hope you are too.
I would also like to ask, how often do you stop and think about what you are doing and why you are doing it?
Recently I had a chance to reflect on this in the process of preparing for a presentation.
The why and how I got into this field and why I have stayed in it.
I mean, as I am sure most of you know it certainly is not the money, especially early on in a conservation career.
It wasn't always the working conditions either. I have had offices in attics, closest, trailers, modified garages.
As an aside what is it about naturalist and offices? Do you think that every agency has administrator that thinks “They don’t want to be inside so they are going to be miserable anyway so let’s stick em in the basement.â€Â
Actually it is a testament to the commitment to the field.
And it wasn't always the hours. I can recall many instances where I have sent staff home after realizing that they had not taken a day off in over a week.
And I bet you have heard from your friends and family, wow what a great job you have! But what do you do in the winter time?
Well it is a great job and a great field!
I was thinking about this and much more when about 18 months ago I was asked if I would address the Bishops Retreat of the northern Ohio Diocese of the Episcopal Church. When I got the call I asked the Bishop what he wanted me to talk about.
He said "Could you just share your views on nature?"
I said OK and I blurted out how about a talk on the Spirituality of Landscape?
I hung up the phone and I thought “Now what the Hell does that mean?â€Â
Needless to say I was very flattered by the request. But this was a little different than most speaking request I get. This was not an invitation to speak on a park project, or the mechanics of some sort of program.
As I set about preparing for the talk I spent some time evaluating what had transpired in my career that had resulted in this invitation.
Now please understand that I don't really regard myself an expert on anything.
I have the pleasure and good fortune to have worked work with some wonderful staff and have some very special and gifted friends.
And I am not by the way an Episcopalian. And I find some humor in the light that I grew up in a fundamental Baptist home. (I stopped going to church when I was 16 or so for number of different reasons.) I was being asked to address a group of Episcopal priest on spirituality and I consider my self a pedestrian.
I think I was 22 when I realized that I am really a pedestrian. And when I tell people that most of the time it works, but every now and again I have to explain what a pedestrian is.
Now I must admit though I have kind of back slided here the past few years and don't walk nearly as much as I should.
So in the process of preparing for that talk I realized that what I do have and what I sincerely I hope I can always hang on to is the ability to be easily distracted and endlessly and enamored with the wonders of the world around us. And this wonderment with the endless connectivity of nature has shaped my career.
In preparing for that presentation on the Spirituality of Place I realized that this attribute was responsible for pulling me along in this field, and was more than likely the reason why I was asked to do that talk. I am willing to guess it is something that all of us in this room share and that is The Sense Of Wonder
So what is The Sense Of Wonder?
Well I am not sure but I suspect that if I were in school right now I would be diagnosed with ADD.
And I find it a little funny that the perhaps very condition that I am crediting with my success is one that has turned out to be so vexing for many students and children today.
And just as an aside I can't help but wonder if maybe someday we might realize at least with some kids maybe it is not a problem with the child but maybe it is our system.
Anyway, some time after the Spirituality of Place presentation, which by the way had two parts. I did a talk and then that evening I did a one and half hour concert of original tunes that are stories set in or told in a nature setting. I mentioned to Ann Bugeda and Dan Best that I had an done interesting and enjoyable Presentation, and in a day or so, Dan ships me an NAI program presentation form. And here we are.
I think there was a little apprehension about me doing the same talk, probably because of the title, which I understand. But really I think a great deal of what we do in this field is actually quite spiritual.
And while I do not advocate a spirituality to any deity I do believe in the connectivity of all things in the universe.
Anyway, I redirected and began to prepare for this presentation and in doing so rediscovered the title of a delightful little book I had read quite some time ago.
The Book
Are you folks familiar with Rachel Carson's books? She actually wrote several.
By training she was a marine biologist and worked for the Federal Government for a number of years.
I am sure that many of you are familiar with the book Silent Spring.
Some claim that Leopold began the modern conservation
movement with his book A Sand County Almanac and some give credit to Rachel Carson's book Silent Spring for starting the modern environmental movement.
Early in my own career in this field it was Silent Spring that had a major impact on me. I found the Almanac just a little too slow, and while I recognized it as a valuable work it didn't call out to me with the same urgency and need as Carlson's book.
Some of you might know Ralph Ramey?
Interestingly enough though, in recent years I have found that I have developed an appreciation for a philosophy that Rachel put forth in a book not nearly as well known as Silent Spring. It is a simple little piece she wrote for, or should I say, wrote with her grand nephew Roger Christie.
It is called The Sense Of Wonder.
I read it some time ago and I can't say that when I did I didn’t model my life or behavior around its message. I simply read it in a few minutes and sat it down. And there is sat until I found the title on some neglected corner of my head.
What I can tell you is that there is a philosophy in this little book that is quite profound. And as I have gotten older I realize the power of this approach to experiencing and sharing nature.
And perhaps even living life (as a better pedestrian)
In essence it is about joy and wonder and less about science.
Her believe was this is the way to prepare the “soil†for future educational growth and learning.
And it actually goes in the face of a widely held belief that I have heard time and time again in educational circles and that is “we value what we name.â€Â
Carson really de emphasizes this practice and instead focuses on the value of the experience.
Interestingly enough I found this quote in another source
Avoid falling into the trap of the naturalist where one tries to catalog and list everything and fails to see the beauty of the landscape.
Try instead the approach of an artist and take in the entire image.
At this point I would like to take a moment if I can to tell you that what you do is important. And consequently it is important that you do it well.
I believe that heaven forbid if any of us in this room left this existence we would leave this world knowing that we have had an impact on people that we have worked with, people who have attended our programs, people whom we have never met who have enjoyed projects we have worked on.
I know that because I have an understanding of the power of the work that we do in this field. And I have seen it in many many ways.
We never really know the capacity of the people we are dealing with, what that young person may grow up to be or what that senior citizen might choose to do with their estate.
Just a couple short stories to illustrate this point:
(Major donations
Chuck Grantham and Robert Bateman
Me and Dr. Mastin.)
So you really don't know the manifestation of your actions. So it is important that interpreters especially approach there work with sincerity and enthusiasm.
And in doing so you will find reward in the work that you do.
Now why is your work so important?
Well clearly you are the messengers of the conservation community, carrying the banners promoting the value of our natural heritage, the importance of biological diversity, and the need to seek sustainable practices and so on.
But you do more.
With the transitory nature of today's society I believe that people are looking for some sort of stability in the world around them.
Parks and Nature Centers provide some form of stability in a world of constant development and change.
I also believe that people need to feel some sort of assurance that there are things beyond our control or that have the resiliency to withstand the folly of our actions.
People are looking for opportunities to forget about the demands from their daily work and the ability to find beauty in the world around them.
And that perhaps the remaining wild and distant
places are somehow mysteriously tied to the beauty they maybe able to find in their back yard or in their local neighbor nature center or park.
And they need this awareness because it helps offset a phenomena I call emotional fatigue.
I honestly believe that good interpretive work can provide a passport to a world that includes hope and optimism and can increase individuals and consequently our societies capacity to care and respond.
We are bombarded with so much negativity until it is easy to get to a point where we are simply numb. It is not that we don't care, we really aren’t sure if it matters if we do.
I believe people are looking for a rejuvenation of or to find this same Sense of Wonder.
And you hold the key to open this world for many people.
How to find and hold on to The Sense Of Wonder
First of all I think it is important to place things in a bigger perspective.
What ever the topic relate it to the next bigger level and let folks know that you do not know every thing. Elevate the view of the topic until you reach a level where there is a common perspective and everyone in on a level of discovery.
I like to step back and look at how things fit within the three big systems that enable life as we know it energy flows, water cycles and geologic systems. If you can do this it is a great way to bring a bigger perspective to a specific topic.
There is a tremendous amount of power in the world around us that can be harvested to help illustrate any point. And this connectivity is critical to encourage a big picture in which to hang future discoveries in.
I also like to examine what has happened to make this moment possible historically, maybe socially, and certainly from an ecological perspective.
In our field the cause is bigger than any individual or any one individuals’ message and we all carry a little piece of the load.
When we tie our message to a bigger perspective we might individually lose importance but our message has become a part of a much bigger message.
I have been involved in my own form of interpretation for over thirty years.
And by many standards I have been blessed with a fairly successful career in conservation.
Over the years I have developed and presented a host of programs, supervised a number interpretive operations, had the privilege of being involved with the conceptual development and building of several nature and educational centers and of course participated in many interpretive programs with my kids.
Early on I learned a number of things while being involved in interpretive programming that have served me well in a number of ways including in my capacities of development and government relations and land negotiations.
These are things that I have found
People respond to enthusiasm, sincerity and honesty
People also respond to a cause or belief.
If you sincerely and honestly believe in a cause and your enthusiastically present it people will enthusiastically respond to you.
When that happens it is a marvelous buzz!
And I have learned some things that do not work as well.
I have created a little grouping of these things that I am calling the buzz killers.
So as you might imagine I believe in order to do your job most effectively you want to Avoid The Buzz Killers
Now there are several quotes I will take from Rachel Carson's book to illustrate the point.
Avoiding The Buzz Killers
I can tell you these are all things that I have done myself and I have also witnessed in other programs. I have put them into a few large categories
The first of which I call
Needing to be the expert
"I have made no conscious efforts to name plants or animals, not to explain to him but I have expressed my own pleasure at what we see."
His value system was not based on the scientific knowledge that his great aunt had. His value system was based on what he could sense.
Several examples of this that comes to mind
My favorite is the fishing guide who says Oh You should have been here yesterday. Steve and Paul Story.
Oh that was just Colts Foot it is a non native plant
Oh that is just a Great Blue Heron they are all over the place anymore.
Dwelling on negative outcomes
In some instances it might be better to focus on what we don't know and instead look for understanding and in site
Another Buzz Killer is
Failing to recognize the value systems of others
“Many Children perhaps because they themselves are smaller and closer to the ground than we are notice and delight in the small and inconspicuous.â€Â
Phil and the Red Tail Hawk /The Whale story in California
How many enriching interpretive opportunities have been lost because someone is afraid to share what they know because their value system might be different than the group leader and destroying the participation of others with a different knowledge base in the group
Barry Lopez story
Ever been on a forced hike? Deck Hunter the forced walk
I believe in allowing children to wonder down the hallway and there may so many rooms to explore.
Buzz kill # 3
The We They Trap
Interpretive Programs are no place to harbor the personal agenda. I have seen many wonderful settings destroyed by an individuals frustration with their employers, government etc. This is one earth Dwelling on the negative and looking for someone to blame is not a solution to any problem.
Story of the goose hunters on the east coast and the bird watchers.
This work is too important to alienate people
Focus on the positive and remember the bull dozer operator gets time and a half on sat.
And finally trying to
Reduce the mystery of life to black and white
“The value of the game of identification depends on how you play it. If it becomes an end in itself I count it of little use. It is possible to compile extensive lists of creatures seen and identified without ever once having caught a breath taking glimpses of the wonder of life.â€Â
Avoid reducing the mysteries of interaction into black and white. It doesn’t always work.
The story of the population shifts and dynamics of deer turkey and eagles in the eastern US.
Failing to recognize the resilience of nature discredits us.
“Understanding the why and understanding the why may change. Shifts in our understanding and the resilience of nature anthropomorphism are all areas where we are shifting our understanding
"It is not half so important to know as it feel"
The challenge of a good interpreter is to be able to make the connection back to the theme at hand through the observations they have made, not to try to control the observations.
“Hatchets are in the hammer family.â€Â
When I stopped taking my field books
I think we need to be advocates of being plugged in and environmentally aware all the time, and that mean being open not just plugged in when we are at the park or nature center or in a program.
And perhaps a better way of doing this is to try to draw connections to nature where ever we are with or without a field book and whenever and wherever the sense of wonder takes us.
And just a word on avoiding burn out.
You have to be true to yourself know your limitations.
It is important for you to be effective at what you are doing as opposed to assuming a role that is not for you.
Don't be afraid to try but for heavens sake the world need effective people on all levels. The cause is bigger than the individual. And the cause's needs and the way you help meet those needs are to take care of yourself. So what I am telling you is It is not only important for you to avoid the buzz killers for not only your program participants but it is important to avoid these to prevent burn out for you.
One of the ways that I have worked to combat burn out and fatigue has been to invent or discover new ways of exploring my commitment to the environment and my desire to share this commitment with others.
It is so easy when you are in a cause driven profession to have that cause become your lifestyle and suddenly your lifestyle becomes your work. When this happens it is nearly impossible to segregate work from any down time or recreation.
At first this effort manifested it's self in developing new interpretive or educational programs in broader topics and activities.
(embellish)
Then in different administrative pursuits until I actually got so far removed from the field that I lost the direct recharge I used to receive delivering programs.
I started to conduct business meetings outside in parks, or scheduling canoe outings or hikes instead of lunches or breakfast meetings.
Then I started taking community leaders and elected officials fly fishing to introduce them to the regions local resources.
Finally in recent years I began to incorporate natural resource elements in the songs that I am writing and performing. IT has given me a completely different method of outreach.
You have a marvelous profession that is so critical to the world we live in.
Remember to reward yourself by allowing yourself to enjoy the interaction you have each and every day and the beauty of the world in which we live.
Seek out those opportunities to incorporate new ways of experiencing the world around you and your ability to explore and share the world around you and maintaining the Sense of Wonder.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033192008-04-12T20:00:00-04:002020-09-09T04:24:03-04:00Keelin Over
<p>Keelin’ Over
I always thought that was an interesting term but I don’t know why. I have had virtually no exposure to the world of sail boats and sailors, and this is a nautical word. I read a book a few years ago about the Essex. The ship that the story Moby Dick was in part based around and there is a great description of a whaling boat keeling over as it left harbor. I think the name of the book is In The Heart of The Sea.
The keel of a sailing vessel is a rather large affair that is part of the underside of the boat and is the counter weight for all of the sails and the rigging. Sometime keels are filled with lead and are very heavy. If a boat were to get laid on it’s side or even completely turned upside down the weight of the keel can right the boat and pull it back over.
The implication of the term appears to be two things, one the act of falling over or being turned upside down, and also the process of being pulled back up or righted.
I can only image how dramatic the act of a big sailing vessel getting laid completely on it’s side and then pulling itself upright must be.
So that is the term I have used to describe a couple of my own little experiences here in the past 6 months because on two occasions I have been laid down and been righted back up.
Keelin’ Over
The first time this occurred was the night of the Western Reserve Hospice fund raising performance in September. This also happened to be the quiet little CD release party for Arrow Creek.
I had originally hoped to have had Arrow Creek done two years earlier, but I ran into some difficulties which caused me to postpone any recording for a while.
About 6 months later I started moving forward again and then shortly after that the flood came. All recording was again put on hold for about a year as I worked with a host of people to gut, elevate and rebuild the house. I can say without reservation it has been some pretty rough hoeing since 2005.
After getting the house livable in the spring of 2007 I began working where I had left off with the recording.
I maintained a pretty demanding work schedule for 12 weeks or so up until the CD release in order to get the disc mixed, out and back in time for this performance. When I say demanding, I mean between my job, continuing work on the house to repair the flood damage and working on the recording/editing/mixing process I am talking about three of four 18 hour days a week and at least 14 hours for every other day.
I was also performing two or three times a week.
Of course getting the CD off to the production house was one thing, trying to make sure it got back in time was another, and that had it's own set of challenges. (Which by the way the shipment arrived at my house on the day of my show!)
And there was the process of planning and promoting that event, which was a small wine and cheese tasting affair which included the usual host of coordination and preparation tasks.
But it all came off without a hitch and at the end of the evening, after every thing was done and all the gear torn down and I was back home, I sat back in a chair on the porch and simply punched out.
I could describe what I experienced but I don’t see the need or value of going into that detail. Let’s just say, I believe, and have been told that it was quite possible I could have died had it not been for a couple people smacking my face and telling me to come back.
I did go and check things out with my Dr. and everything came back clear, although we mutually concluded that I hadn’t been a model of ideal living that particular day. And there was no denying the schedule I had been keeping was really out of hand.
I just figured I needed a break. Especially when you put things in the context of the past few years.
Emotionally I wasn’t shook up at all, but physically I wasn’t quite right for several days. I have not maintained any religious affiliation since high school, but I have maintain a certain level of spirituality. And I always marvel at folks who clearly have greater religious convictions than I but seem to have no faith. At this stage of the game I am fairly comfortable with the consequences of being alive.
And don’t get me wrong I am not volunteering to call it a game. But I do believe things are what they are and it is better to swim with the current than to fight it, and that particular experience was big enough to re affirm my believe that sometimes it better to take it all in instead of trying to run away.
Well let’s fast forward things a few months.
I have several really big projects going on at work that are on go all the time. In addition there is the basic personnel supervision issues that go with the territory. The house is still not done and I am pretty burned out on that whole scene especially the odds and ends of the finishing esthetics. I am just getting ready to launch into a major landscaping component of the whole project, which I happen to be dreading because a) it is expensive, and b) will take all summer. Yet somehow I have still been writing a fair amount of new material and I would really like to get back into a recording mode.
Unfortunately I am finding it difficult to find the time to make that happen.
A week or so ago I came home with intentions of wrapping up several small projects, one for work and one for music. That plan got derailed and I wound up running around dealing with a bunch of other stuff. To be truthful I was pretty ramped up about this because it wasn’t where my head and heart were at.
The long and the short of it is after getting a few errands done I took a walk down to the creek and spoke with my neighbor for about 30 minutes. As I walked back to the house I started getting really dizzy. I went in kicked off my shoes, lay down on the floor and passed out for a short while. Mj called the squad and when they got there my pulse was 38 but everything else seemed to be OK. They hauled me off to the ER and I have to say it was great service all around.
Again I checked out OK and again I went to my regular care giver and seem to be fine. I did go around with a 24 hr heart monitor strapped on for a day and I will go in for a CT and a ultrasound but the general suspicion is everything will be OK.
So I am looking at things trying to figure out how to minimize internal conflict, balance external priorities, and maintain some sort of awareness on eating, sleeping and drinking properly.
I will let you know what I find out.
But I can pretty much say "Gee what fun is that?"</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033142008-04-04T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00SO WHAT IS A PEDESTRIAN?
<p>Nearly thirty years ago a friend of mine John Humpston was telling me about filling out his application to graduate from Ohio state. He had left the religious affiliation line blank and it was returned to him stamped incomplete, so he wrote in “pedestrianâ€Â. The admin types accepted that and John graduated. When he told me that story I decided that I wanted to be a pedestrian too. Since that time I have actually developed some fairly complex ideas associated with what it means to be a pedestrian.
I spoke at the Bishops retreat for the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Ohio last winter, and shared some of my ideas about the Spirituality of Place and landscape. Basically I said you don’t get an idea of what is going on somewhere until you get out and walk, and you sure don’t know who you are if you don’t know something about where you are from. (I said a little more than that, like an hour and a half worth).
Anyway the beauty of being a pedestrian is you can get to the lowest common denominator.
I like that, it's slow but there are merits to that too.
Being a reductionist of sorts I belief that there are three primary systems that interact that enable life as we know it. Energy flows (or cycles if you happen to believe that the universe is a closed system) water cycles and mineral cycles or geologic processes.
I like to feel that I am interacting with these big systems.
When I am standing in a stream of moving water, I feel like I am in the vortex of all three. The water is moving due to the effects of weather, the weather is the result of energy flows, and of course the moving water is eroding the rock on which I am standing. Of course fly fishing is the excuse that I predominately use to go stand in streams, and don’t get me wrong, fly fishing certainly has it’s own zen thing going on for me too, but fishing is not the end game. That is an interaction of mechanics and the merger or interactions of two worlds and one just happens to above the surface of the water and the other below it. But if the water isn’t moving it isn’t the same. It is not the big hit that I sometimes get from just being there in middle of the dynamic interaction between earth energy and water.
If I get emails of interest either directly or posted on my little comments page I will share more of my thoughts on this.
But mean while back to John Humpston. John had a sign in his bathroom that said “Preserve Wild Life Throw A Party!â€Â
I adopted that as a motto for too long too, like 25 years too long, and realized, there has got to be a better way to help animals! This kind of living is killing me.
Who knows, maybe some day I will give up on being a pedestrian, but for right now I am still walking. 
</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033182008-03-30T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Another nice Reivew Of Arrow Creek
<p>http://thecalmcafe.wordpress.com
I got notice of this blog post while I was up in Chicago.
Mj and I went up for the weekend to just get out of town.
What a nice city.
I can't help but think Ohio has so screwed up in not having any resonable mass transit.
We had a great time taking the trains to about anywhere we wanted to go.
One stop was agumented with a short walke to Tommys Guitar Cafe. A guitar shop that sold killer bugers!
Great art museum too!
I couldn't help but feel the vibrance of the city downtown. While I hate to drive through it, downtown Chi town is fun.
One of the most wonderful things was the art in front of our hotel. Running the risk of illustrating my amazing lack of sophistication in not knowing the name of the sculpture, let me say the stainless steel coffee bean is a wonderful peice of art.
When you witness people all around an object that is clearly bring excitment and joy, how can anyone doubt the value of art?
It was superb, and I guess that alone should motivate me to look up the proper name of the piece!
Cheers!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033172008-03-04T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Different version of Arrow Creek
<p>I was cleaning up the barn computer the other day and found an early mix of Arrow Creek. Kinda cool with some percussion and a second guitar. Just for grins I posted it on Folk Alley
If you want to give it a listen go to
http://openmic.folkalley.com/SteveMadewell</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033162008-02-26T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Waffles, a maple syrup delivery system
<p>02/27/08
Last night, well actually all day yesterday and last night, it snowed. We have about 10 inches of the most beautiful fluffy snow on the ground.
I have read that Inuit’s have names for 28 different varieties of snow. I certainly recognize several but this is the only one I have a name for and that is “sugar snowâ€Â. So called because this kind of snow always falls during maple sugar season. I heard this snow name from Mj years ago.
She grew up in maple sugar country, I grew up in corn and beans country.
My first exposure to making maple syrup came through my friend Vance Wissinger’s dad. Vance senior dragged me out back of Wissinger’s Palace and showed me a series of metal barrels that he had modified and was using to cook down maple sap, which he was collecting in five gallon plastic buckets. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to make a gallon of maple syrup. And over an open stove this takes a long time and requires a lot of attention to keep it from burning.
He was making this amber maple syrup that was quite smoky, and it didn’t really sheet off of a knife the way I later learned it was supposed to. Vance’s syrup was a bit thinner than that. He gave me the low down on how he tapped the trees, how much sap he was boiling down to get his syrup and told me “you never can tell when you might need how to make maple syrupâ€Â.
Less than 18 months later I was working as the director of the Geauga Park District which at that time was the only park system in Ohio with a sugar house. This is only one of several stories I could recount about Vance seniors obvious connection to my cosmological existence. He was a trip!
Every time it snows a sugar snow, I also think about Harold Berry. He was the father of one of Mj’s friends who introduced the term to her and consequently me. Harold had a sugar house and the last time I saw him he was standing in front of a 6 or 7 foot high pile of sugar wood. That is fire wood that has been spilt into four foot long sections. I suppose he was in his 80’s. Several years prior he had been diagnosed with cancer and given a relatively short time to live. I remember he had told me when we found out he was refusing the recommended treatment because he had lived a good life and wasn’t going to screw up the end of it. So several years later it appeared that he was doing quite well and was clearly enjoying getting ready for another maple sugar season.
So what’s the big deal? Well is goes like this, once you have had real grade A light maple syrup it re defines all forms of syrup.
For the past several weeks I have been getting this hankering for pancakes. And then I realized it was not really a craving for pancakes, but rather the combination of pancakes, melted butter and real light grade maple syrup. As this desire grew it became redefined and clearer, until through conversations with MJ we jointly realized it was waffles that we wanted. Not Belgium Waffles, but crisp hot corn meal waffles that will readily melt a pat of butter and are capable of holding up to a real drenching of maple syrup.
So after talking about maple syrup and waffles last week, we dug out her grandma’s ancient waffle iron made up a batch of corn meal waffles and proceeded to enjoy a wonderful breakfast feasts…. for dinner!
As they say, when the mood hits!
We enjoyed a wonderful meal dressed up with one of the first locally harvested treats of the year.
Greg Brown has a wonderful song he wrote about his grandma canning summer in a jar, I can tell you that in the middle of February the taste of real maple syrup is like those first warm rays of March sunshine, the hope of spring.
As I pushed the light fluffy sugar snow off the car this morning, I really didn’t mind as much. I know it is going to be sunny today and the sap will be flowing. Tonight there will be some old fellows sitting in their sugar houses tending the fire and watching the sap boil.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033152008-02-02T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00First Snow
<p>Today is the first real snow of the year and it is really coming down.
The first good snow always makes me reflective and I enjoy seeing natural systems interacting
We have about 12 inches on the ground and it is still falling.
Temperatures really dropped last night and the creek froze lumpy.
That is when the freeze takes place really fast the current piles the ice up as it
is forming.
I have had the privilege to watch the stream freeze in a number of ways under different conditions.
Once it was very cold and still. The water just seemed to get thicker and seemed to change color.
There were small ice flows moving downstream in the current.
In what was really a matter of minutes the deep slower
pools were suddenly covered in a smooth clear layer of ice.
Ice out is pretty wild too, but that is a story for the spring.
Last night I had the pleasure of watching a herd of four deer come through the yard. They went through the yard like it was their own buffet. They started out eating from the small corn pile I have out by the barn. (They feed me and I feed them)
They proceed to work their way through the yard stopping to sample hemlock, then red osier dogwoods, rose bushes, hydrangeas, hemlocks again, azaleas, rhododendrons, hemlocks yet again, and finally the english ivy out front.
I always get a great deal of entertainment from watching or observing wild life.
I am captivated with they way they move within their environment and how aware they are of everything around them.
Of course given my interests, I would never pass up an opportunity to watch an animal or a natural phenomena unfold under the notion that I was learning about or studying the creature or situation.
A few years back however I had a revelation that often times while I was studying animals or nature I also had the opportunity to really learn about myself.
There are so many lessons to be learned by simple observation of the world around us.
Or maybe they aren’t all lessons maybe they are re assurances
that things will be as they need to be.
Years ago, in period of great turmoil, I would wake up in the middle of the night a complete wreck, and I would go out walking down the Little Miami River.
I would find myself considering the fact that many of the
trees I was walking under were over 200 hundred years old, that the Native people had canoed or walked under them as well as famous frontiersmen like Daniel Boone.
That all these people before me had enjoyed the sweetness of life and that the world continues.
There was and is a lovely re assurance that came in recognizing that I was a part of a much bigger system, a continuum
I think most of us suffer with the wonderful ability to deluding ourself into believing that we can will control over what is around us.
Consequently have a giant power struggle with anything and everything that threatens that control.
For me while this is not an easy ting to do, a better approach is to be aware of how I am part of what is going on around me and a part of a bigger system.
Keeping that awareness and openness I am much more inclined to be productive, creative, at ease with myself and the world.
While this is something that I could and should be doing all the time, the chatter and demands of everyday life are so distracting.
The natural world often reminds me of a different way to be. It was something I learned that from the trees and get reminded of when I watch wildlife or interact with the natural systems.
This winter I wrote a song called “Gifts†which is posted on this web page.
A large part of what that tune is about is dialing in to the world around us and finding those gifts to receive and gifts to share.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033132007-12-07T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Another Day On Steelhead Alley!
<p>An edited version of this post may be on the Patagonia field report web page.
The thermometer read 12 degrees! Not exactly an ideal temperature to go
fishing. I was helping guide a steelhead outing for a group from Patagonia
and hey they should be all about extreme fishing.
When it comes to steelheading your plan has to be flexible and often you
use every card in the deck.
The plan was to pick up my guy Bill Klyn with the intentions of working a
small stream for a couple hours. Then head for the Grand River and bounce
our way upstream.
Unfortunately the cold was a problem on the little creek. Shelf ice was
rapidly building and flow ice made it difficult to get the line to sink.
If you happened to cast onto the shelf ice, the fly would immediately freeze
in place.
Until the day warmed up, it wasn't feasible to fish the creek.
I accelerate my plans for the day and we moved onto the Grand, where the water
temps would be slightly warmer and the problems of flow ice and shelf ice
would be minimized.
Of course this was still no pic nic, but I figured the Patagonia fly fishing guys probably suffer from some inferiority complex around the rock climbers and extreme skiers and all, so I thought at least Bill will have something to talk about.
Unfortunately due to ice melt the day before, water visibility was about
8 inches and the water flow was high. Then the wind kicked up. I had no idea what the wind chill was.
After a few hours of standing waste deep in glacial gray water, it was
apparent this wasn't happening.
We worked back to shore and Bill commented on the ice on the back of my
waders. I turned and I saw a fine glaze of ice all over him. Wow, we might
not have great big frozen beards, and black frost bitten fingers, but gee
whizz, we kinda looked like we had been in an extreme out door adventure!
While we might not have been handing on the side of a mountain at 25.000
feet this kind of stream fishing this was pretty extreme!
I said to Bill "What a great catalog shot!" Then realized, even if we had
gotten a picture I doubt that we would have made the catalog. We were just
a tad too old and too plump. Instead of extreme outdoor enthusiast, we
looked more like a couple of glazed donuts, or at least two glazed fishing nuts!
After an early lunch I was mentally scrambling for our next option. I came up with an idea that had more IF/THEN statements than a graduate level philosophy text book.
We headed to a large pool on one of the smaller tribs. I broke off shelf ice and pushed it downstream and opened enough water for Bill to fish the belly of the pool.
Everything was going "swimmingly" until I lost my footing
breaking the ice and soaked my left hand and lower arm. (note to self,
when wringing out a wet glove in cold temperatures it is important that you
remove the dry glove first).
As ludicrous as this seems, it worked. Bill hooked and landed several fish.
And it was all so effortless!
Ah symmetry!
While releasing one of Bill's fish, the eye of my wading shoe caught on my net. I fell in this time soaking my right arm.
But a lesson learned! I took my left glove off before I wrung out the right</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033122007-12-07T19:00:00-05:002022-02-25T05:55:57-05:00Jeff Madewell Rosebud Clothing Drive
<p>In 1999 my younger brother Jeff started a clothing and toy drive for the native people living on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in South Dakota.
You can go to the following web page and read a little bit about every year if you would like. If you do please read the first posting I think it is the best.
http://essencialdreams.com/children.htm
Jeff is remarkable person in many ways. When he was little he was always interested in playing the drums. One day when he was 11 or 12 he was watching my older brother Bob and I playing guitar. We took a break and Jeff just picked up my guitar and started playing. I had heard about such things before but I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was in college and didn't have much money but I scraped some cash together and bought him an electric guitar for $15.00 the next day.
Since then he has developed into one of the best electric guitarists I have ever heard, period. Right now he is primarily performing with Erin Higgins in southwestern Ohio, but he has also had some great bands, least of which was Love Junkie
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=158408210
At 19 Jeff had a bought with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and through some strange complications he lost approximately 98 percent of his vision.
In spite of this challenge he has developed a career as a performing musician, teacher and recording engineer.
Every month he also provides a CD's worth of sound beds, jingles and parody songs for AM radio distribution across the US. He has an incredible work ethic but he works very hard to make a living.
While many of us are content to either enjoy our success or complain about our lack of success, 8 years ago Jeff decided to initiate a clothing and relief drive for the Lakota Sioux. The success of this drive has been over whelming, and thanks to some of his dear friends and some generous corporate support he has been successful in delivering semi truckloads of goods to these folks who are in very dire straights.
This spring, Jeff had some very serious medical complications associated with Histoplasmosis and he nearly died. He was severely weaken and his road to recovery in light of his work load had been arduous.
Even so this year Jeff has again resumed his relief drive and for the first time, he has been invited to ride along with the trucker to deliver the 40 plus pallets of clothing toys and house hold commodities. They are leaving on the 11 th of December and returning on the 15th
While Jeff is really excited to go I am asking if you could just take a moment to send a positive thought or prayer his way to grant him a safe journey and return.
Thank You
Steve Madewell</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033112007-11-06T19:00:00-05:002021-12-16T14:28:49-05:00Arrow Creek is being promoted by Sutton Records
<p>Today was the first day of an agreement between Madewell Music and Sutton Records involving the promotion of Arrow Creek to NPR radio stations in several regions of US and folk based stations in the UK.
There will also be efforts to solicit interest and reviews from singer songwriter publications and other distribution companies.
If you would like you can listen to "Is This What We Have Become" and "Climb" on Folk Alley. Folk Alley has a section called Open Mic for new and independent singer song writers to post songs.
There is some really good stuff there.
Check it out!
Two weeks ago I did my first broad cast. I really appreciated those folks who wrote back with suggestions and requests for what they wanted to see either in future emails or posted on the web.
I will take those to heart and get on it as time permits.
If you would like to be added to the email list, go back to the home page and sign up!
Steve</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033102007-11-06T19:00:00-05:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Hello Belgium!
<p>WEBRADIO GOLDEN FLASH
DJ Ray Pieters, contacted me a few weeks ago and inquired about playing Arrow Creek on his award winning web radio show.
For 27 years he has been hosting his own Radioshow " Somewhere Between “ based in Westerlo, Belgium.
Thanks to Ray, a few cuts from Arrow Creek are being played in Europe.
Thanks again Ray!
And for those who caught any of my tunes on "Somewhere Between" and decided to check out my web page,
Hello and thanks for listening and visiting!
Peace
Steve</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033092007-10-18T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Hey Broadway Joe’s was a really great time!
<p>Yes indeed it was a real treat.
First of all it is wonderful for a community to have such an active arts program! Thank you Julie and Keith for having me down!
Secondly it was a really really nice feelling to see “sold out show†on the flyers!
Jim, your place was really nice and I just had to use that big old couch on stage. I mean why not?
To all the folks that came out, thank you for being such a great crowd. Hopefully I will be back!
Steve</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033082007-10-10T20:00:00-04:002022-05-10T06:45:56-04:00Wound Too Tight Selected as a finalist for the Song Of The Year for the month of August!!<p>Song Of The Year is as it says, a song writing competetion, that several catogories. I submitted Wound Too Tight and was selected as a finalist for the month of August. Here is the link if you want to see the listing http://www.songoftheyear.com/winners/2007/082007.htm Here are some of the comments from the review SONG WRITER Stephen Madewell NAME OF SONG Wound Too Tight COMMENTS ON EMOTIONAL IMPACT Your lyrics have a playful, upbeat feel as you ramble about the woes of life. The music has a solid, traditional groove that suits this song well. Your title is a perfect fit that grabs the attention and wholly reflects the song. This is a very fun song. COMMENTS ON TECHNICAL EVALUATION: Your vocals are very good. They have consistency and a very nice sound. Your music is simple but good, with a nice, upbeat acoustic groove. The melodies are simple but do a good job of setting the mood for the song. Structure is perfect, with smooth flow, smart arrangement, and a rhythm and tempo that fits the song. The production is great and could just use a little fine tuning in your final mix and the presence of the overall mix. COMMENTS ON MARKETABILITY: This may not be the most marketable song, but someone looking for a fun album track won’t be able to pass this one up. </p>Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033072007-10-01T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00As the summer winds down...
<p>The last weekend of Sept. was great. Had a business trip to Indy, which provided an opportunity to stop in Dayton and listen to brother Jeff and Erin Higgins do a show at the Toll House. They were both sporting new Taylor Koas, which sounded great. Got back in time to perform an early show at the Rocky River Fest. on the west side of Cleveland on Sat. Really nice to see the partnership in that watershed coming together for such a nice event. Cleveland Metroparks was a wonderful host site.
I hustled off to Geneva on the Lake to do my last afternoon show of the year at the Old Fire House and Marge and Harry showed up!Sweet to have the freindly faces, and talk with Harry about building a guitar for me!
Concluded the weekend playing sunday night at a lovely barn party for Jon and Aimee. What a super evening. Again great to see familar faces, and hear so many nice comments. Hope everyone who took an Arrow Creek CD home enjoys it!
Will be working on the house this week.
A brief performance next weekend for a memorial dedication for Chuck Ashcroft. Chuck was the Director of the Gand RIver Parnters Inc. and he passed away entirely too early. He was a wonderful and gentle person, and he loved the song Rivers and Trails. We could all only hope to preserve a little piece of the world in our life time and Chuck did just that. I am honored to have been asked to play a song at the dedication of this Grand River access area that will be named for Chuck.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033062007-09-23T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00Greg Brown/Gold Cup
<p>Saturday, MJ and I ran up to and caught Greg Brown at the Ark in Ann Arbor. The guy is a treasure. Wonderful show. Bo Ramsey opened up and also played with Greg. Bo's guitar work was so subtle and just kept building through the night. I always find it wonderful when someone slowly but surely kicks me in the pants. Ann Arbor is such a sweet little city and the Ark is a great venue as well. Big Fun.
Ohh Checked out the Herb David guitar studio...I don't know, might have been a mistake. I keep preaching we all need to give up the want, but there was one guitar there that....well...i might want.
Hit the road after the show in order to get back to Cleveland to do play some tunes at the Gold Cup horse show Sunday. Nice late morning early afternoon event. Saw a surprizing number of folks from the Greenville Inn days.</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61033052007-09-19T20:00:00-04:002015-12-11T07:19:27-05:00A couple performances with The Next Best Thing
<p>For a number of years Al Bonnis and I played together as Late As Usual, sometimes as a duo and sometimes as a trio with my friend Vance Wissinger.
A few years ago I started working on more of my original material and began doing more solo performances.
All the while Al has been playing with his son Andrew who is really a very good musicain in his own right. This past week we did a couple private parties together. One night AL and I played electric guitars and we did a selection of blues and swing numbers. The next we all play "unplugged" including Andrew on an upright. Big fun all the way around!</p>
Steve Madewelltag:madewellmusic.com,2005:Post/61032972007-09-17T20:00:00-04:002020-09-23T07:10:32-04:00Arrow Creek is here!
<p>My second CD arrived just in time for a series of shows the first weekend in Sept.
For now you can download a digital version through:
http://www.digstation.com/AlbumDetails.aspx?albumID=ALB000010595
I was so fortunate to have a very nice article appear in the in the News Herald about the CD and the activities of the weekend.
Bob Hollister flew in just for the occassion!
We had one crazy night of running around and rehearsing, and then we were off to the races...
We did a sit down concert as a benifit for the Hospice of the Western Reserve on Friday night. Bob did a great one hour show, then I did a bout half the songs from the CD. Which by the way is named after the creek valley where Bob lives. Wine and cheese followed and a good time was had by all. All the proceeds for the evening including CD sales went to Hospice.
Saturday was a similar show at the Geauga Park District's Donald Meyer Center for about a hundred folks, only this time Bob and I just took turns doing tunes. We even sang a few together!
Sunday it was off to the Conneaut Cellars annual patron pic nic where we had a blast playing anything and everything that came to mind. It was a great weekend, but I sure missed Caroline Quine...
She worked so hard with me, pulling and pushing me along the way during the recording process. And she also did the Graphics on the CD....Which are lovely.
Oh yes the CD, in a short while it will be available through CD Baby, eventually I tunes and Digimusic.
But first I have a few things to take care of in the mean time.</p>
Steve Madewell