I’ll Go To My Grave Loving The Statler Brothers

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Harold Reid died last week at age 80 after a long battle with kidney failure. He was bass singer with “The Statler Brothers,” a country and gospel quartet that had many hits. Many were arranged to feature Harold’s bass voice, including “Flowers On The Wall” — their big breakout single.

A salute to Harold Reid, Bass singer for the Statler Brothers, who died last week.
Phil, Don, Jimmy behind Harold

The group appeared frequently on the Johnny Cash TV show and toured with The Man In Black. In fact, the group is most often associated with him in the mind of their public. They went so far as to write a tribute song, “We Got Paid by Cash.”

They are credited with merging gospel harmonies with country music. They certainly mainstreamed gospel, which has always been embraced by country and folk music.

What distinguished them and made them so lovable was their injection of humor. Not only did they do schtick (Harold and his brother Don were primarily the instigators) but they recorded a couple of comedy records as Lester “Roadhog” Moran and the Cadillac Cowboys, and one of their albums had a parody of small town radio stations local shows on the second side. (If you are too young to know what an “album” was and what it means that they had “sides,” ask your nearest senior citizen).

A dozen or so years ago, I met (through a Craigslist musician’s forum) a wonderful lady named Linda Loegel. She had a bunch of lyrics she’d written over the years and I picked out a few I thought were my style, and wrote some music with her. We did one called, “The Ride Of My Life” that was about a person taking a balloon ride, and using it as a metaphor for going to heaven. She said her own mother was one of those daring senior citizens who enjoyed things like ballooning and skydiving — and this was before people were talking about “bucket lists.”

She was thrilled when I decided to do the song in the style of The Statler Brothers. And, as ususal, I did all the instruments and harmonies. It was a challenge to be a gospel quartet on my own, and I didn’t have any electronic helpers like pitch-shifters and voice ding-dongs and whatever. I just sang. You can hear the song on my music page (here).

Here is the link to listen to “The Ride Of My Life.”

https://www.soundclick.com/html5/v3/player.cfm?type=single&songid=5204329&q=hi&newref=1

Another of the Statler Brothers, Lew DeWitt, predeceased Harold.

And I’ll leave you with a little trivia:

Only two of the Statler Brothers were siblings — Harold and Don Reid. And none were named Statler. The name came from a box of facial tissues they saw in a hotel room. The joked that they could have named themselves “the Kleenex Brothers.”

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Jazz Giant Bucky Pizzarelli

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We’ve lost another giant of jazz to the virus. Bucky Pizzarelli put a lot of picking into his 94 years.

He was neighbors and friends with Les Paul, and got his start at 17 playing with Vaughn Monroe’s band. During his time as a staff musician for NBC, playing with Skitch Henderson and The Tonight Show Band when Johnny Carson was host (where he tuned Tiny Tim’s ukulele) he backed up many high-profile guests. He toured several times with Benny Goodman and other bands, and was in demand as a studio session guitarist, playing with many of the greats on lots of notable albums. He performed before presidents Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, and First Lady Pat Nixon.

John and Bucky Pizzarelli and 14 Strings

He played right up to 2018, even after a stroke in 2016.

But his finest productions were his children, John and Martin Pizzarelli who carry on the family tradition recording standards and introducing new generations to jazz, and daughter Mary, a classical guitarist. John is married to Broadway star and singer Jessica Molasky and they often perform and record together. Bucky played on three of her solo records.

For you guitarists, you might be interested to know that Bucky learned to play 7-string guitar from George Van Epps, has his signature line with Benedetto Guitars. John also plays with 7 strings.

So many good recordings left behind, it seems that we can revisit Bucky whenever we want, but he will be sorely missed.

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LOOK FOR THE MOTIVE

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You don’t need to write a doctoral dissertation on “The Art Of War” by Sun Tzu to understand that underestimating your enemy is very, very bad.

Yet our society breeds us to look at a very bipolar world. The good guys vs. the bad guys. Good vs. Evil. God vs. the Devil.

Western movies featured the good guys vs. the bad guys. The good guys were easy to recognize, they all wore white. The bad guys, villains, always wore black. In shorthand they called them the white hats and the black hats. Those terms have carried over today — for example hackers are known as white hat or black hat depending upon their motives. In melodrama it was common to have a villain as personified by Snidely Whiplash, who would abduct a damsel and tie her to the railroad tracks.

And then of course there is the field of sports. Probably the biggest influence in society. We have team rivalries, and we have a die-hard fans. The home team is the good guys, and the visiting team is the bad guys. If you don’t think these things go to extremes, you have never heard of the riots at soccer matches in South America or Europe, and the clashes at Major League sports in American sports arenas. We even have violence in little leagues when berserk parents and misguided coaches, supposedly adults, violently clash.

And of course many people were raised with an appreciation for comic books. In this non-literate age, most of that has been assumed by movies and TV. Superhero stories usually featured the absolutely honest and virtuous hero fighting an evil, monstrous villain.

Now we know that it isn’t quite that clear-cut in real life. The bipolar world has black and white, real life has shades of grey.

What is missing here?

Motive.

Why would snidely whiplash tie Sweet Nell to the railroad tracks? Why would Lex Luthor try to kill Superman with Kryptonite? Why do any of the awesomely deranged and costumed villains Spider-Man faces want to rule the world or even destroy the world? And look at the James Bond stories — at least in the beginning they started out as a succession of mad men bent on world domination.

What we see in our society today has been shaped by our upbringing. Especially in an election year, which is every two years, we have a bipolar two party system.

To Old-Timers it feels like things have gotten more and more personal and violent in the past few decades. One would think that in the good old days there was more of a rivalry between political parties where one respectable opponent would meet another respectable opponent for a civilized debate and discourse, and allow the public to decide on the facts. That is why we never really have had one party dominate for long periods of time. The biggest exception would be during FDR during the great depression, the only time we have ever had a president in office for four terms.

Now the political parties view each other as evil. One party’s “GOOD” is the other party’s “EVIL” and vice-versa, depending upon your point of view. Rather than just having a disagreement with your opponent, you cast that opponent as evil, justifying the commission of evil acts to vanquish that opponent.

But in real life and in the better forms of literature, the so-called bad guys have motives for what they do. They can justify the most outrageous actions to themselves. And in fact they may have the best intentions in the world.

Yes I know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

But the world takes on an entirely different light if we try to analyze what the motives are for the people that we think are evil.

Yes people do certain things to achieve certain ends. For example one person may have a grand idea for reshaping the economy for the benefit of all humanity. And that person may be cast as evil by the people who do not want fairness and equality, who want to be the top of the pyramid.

Eugenics, ethnic cleansing, genocide — humans have justified all of these things in various places and times.

So when we see somebody doing things with which we don’t agree, or don’t like, we should try to ferret out the motives.

Today we have a post-information age, perhaps mis-information age. So many things are cast as the truth, and yet so many are conflicting. Every side can justify calling their opponents “Fake News.”

Money is power and power is money. This explains a lot. After the Watergate scandal, a phrase from that era has survived — “follow the money.”

That’s why we have propaganda wars, where whole societies are shaped by the news that they receive.

However in our post-information age, our mis-information age, news does not rise to the top on its own merits (i.e. “truth”). The accepted story is the one that the most people like.

Since more people get their news from social media than from the traditional mainstream media, everything is driven by likes and clicks and retweets and forwards.

There is an old song, “Look for the Silver Lining”. In this day and age we need to look for the hidden motive.

Have you ever heard the quote, “Everything you know is wrong?”

What if that is true?

Every once in awhile we should just stop, look, and listen, and try to see the other side.

It may be evil, or it may make perfect sense.

The real problem is it is so easy to “play” people, and a skillful persuader can keep them from even knowing that they have all been played.

You must always seek the “WHY” of things — the motive.

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Yeah, Yeah, I’m In Mensa

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My birthday is coming up in about 6 weeks No big deal at my age. However, it is the billing cycle for my Mensa membership, also.

I joined Mensa in 1978, and my acceptance is one of the memories of that year that are most vivid. Although I qualified through previous testing (in Jr. High School), I could not get the test results to send in. So I took the proctored test — driving 2.5 hours from small town Kansas to the big city of Wichita.

When the results came in the mail, I was surprised. Not that I thought I did bad on the tests, but the usual self-doubts we all feel at various points in our lives.

My father, not the most supportive person in the world, was there when I opened the letter. I didn’t exactly do handstands, but I exclaimed something like, “Wow, I made it.”

Dad looked over at me and said, “Did they send you a membrership card?”

Puzzled, I answered in the affirmative.

“Let me see it,” he said, as if wanting proof I wasn’t lying. And yes, that is how he treated me, even at age 22.

After he glanced at the card, he said, “Well – that and a dime will get you a cup of coffee.” and handed it back to me.

And yes — a cup of coffee was only a dime at many places in 1978 rural Kansas.

Back then, membership was $20 per year. They also offered a package — $200 for a Lifetime Membership! Had I the financial resources then, I would have taken it. But that was a week’s salary for me and I lived paycheck-to-paycheck.

Today I bought a 5 year package that cost half again as much as that Lifetime Membership, but I don’t regret the money I’ve spent on Mensa Membership over my 42 years of participation.

Mensa was my entire social life for many years, and I gave back by serving in various capacities — LocSec, newsletter editor, program chairman … and helped in other activities. I met a lot of great people that played a great role in my life. I dated some of them, even, and have fond memories still.

But I am sure I will remain a lifetime member even if I have to pay for it year-by-year. Mensa has been an important part of my life — it has given me purpose and cemented a part of my identity.

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Christmas Shopping Humbug!

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The end of an era — of SEVERAL eras.

I had a job I loved when I was in my 20s. A small business that was bought out by a larger competitor and absorbed. Of course, very few of the employees were offered jobs.

That was in 1988. I found a job in a retail chain called “Service Merchandise” — similar to Target. I was hired as the manager of the “Sight and Sound” department. In those days, that meant cameras, videocassette recorders, stereos, and consumer electronics like calculators, watches, etc.

In the year I worked there, I went through one Christmas cycle — and it was absolutely crazy! I’m glad I didn’t work in the toy department because those poor souls were locked in overnight to prepare for the onslaught of Christmas opening.

Jerry Lewis IN Who's Minding The Store

And things were different then. There was no “Black Friday.” The worst (best?) shopping day of the year — depending upon if you were a worker or a consumer — was Nov. 1.

When the doors opened — people flooded the stores, tore merchandise apart, assaulted each other. It was like Jerry Lewis’s film, “Who’s Minding The Store.”

Christmas brought out the worst in people — not the best. Customers waited in line for sales help.

(YES — there was actually plenty of staff walking the aisles to help customers and answer questions. It’s true — I’m NOT on drugs!)

An example: I’d greet the next customer in line at the counter and his greeting was no “Merry Christmas!” It was “I’ve been waiting here 45 minutes!”

Yes, people were poor planners even back then.

I spent at least 15 minutes demonstrating the features of a 35mm camera (a very weird type — it actually had FILM. There were no digital cameras — at least not affordable ones).

After all that time I made my sales close: “Would you like to pay cash or put it on your credit card?”

The customer gave the reply I heard all too often, “Oh, I’m not buying it here. I can get it cheaper at Best Buy, but they don’t have any clerks to answer questions.”

Best Buy was the NEW player in town and they were unique — self-service rather than helpful clerks. Of course, customers weren’t used to them. The public complained that they could get nobody to help them — but they still wanted the cheapest price.

I always remember that horrible Christmas — and the ramifications of cheap prices and self-service.

So we see the escalation this year. And the greeting has become:

Merry Christmas! You are laid off!

https://www.businessinsider.com/retail-bankruptcy-list-sears-blockbuster-borders-2019-12

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Wow! That Economy Is Going Great! (For Some)

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Some of my friends who are bullish on the economy keep posting things about how great this year has been.  However, this is the time of year when we see/hear about businesses closing or going bankrupt.

That’s the post Christmas blow-out.  Most businesses make at least a third of their annual income around Christmas (4th quarter).

Sure — the stock market has been going up and setting records … but what does that mean?

“The Stock Market” usually means the Dow-Jones Average.  That is a list of 30 industrial businesses — and is not really relevant in today’s world.

After WWII, American had lots of auto factories and manufactured steel, and then the electronics boom started — and we had a lot of production before we shipped it all overseas to chase cheap labor.

Now the economy is good — for certain people.  If you own a business in Fortune 500, and/or a lot of blue chip stocks, you are probably getting pretty good dividends and earnings.

If you work for those companies, their wages have not kept up with the profits the company is pocketing.  In fact, in many cases, they don’t keep up with inflation.

Here’s the real pulse of the economy:

“If you keep noticing more going-out-of-business sales, there’s a startling reason: Forever 21, Walgreens, Dressbarn, GameStop, Gap and other chains have announced nearly 9,000 store closings in 2019 — way more than we saw during all of 2018.”

https://moneywise.com/a/retailers-closing-stores-in-2019

Meanwhile the Federal Reserve keeps pumping money into the economy to keep the numbers up.

Report in September:  “By pumping more dollars into the cash-strapped lending market, the Federal Reserve brought the market money rate back in line with its funds rate. What started as a single act on September 17, 2019, has now snowballed into four straight days of repo agreements to inject more than a quarter of a trillion dollars’ worth of capital into the system.”

Report in November:

The Fed’s monetary juice has tied directly to the rise in stocks

Nov 7, 2019The Federal Reserve has been pumping billions into the financial system after the mid-September tumult in very short-term lending markets known as repo. As the central bank’s balance sheet has …

The reason?  When the economy is good, incumbents are usually re-elected, and 2020 is an election year.

When the economy is bad, the incumbent is usually voted out of office.

This has nothing to do with other factors — like impeachment hearings or personal scandals.  But in the face of those factors, a booming economy could really help out.

So when people are telling about the great economy, they are probably repeating what they want to hear according to their belief system — and not telling you what is actually going on.

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Farewell To Craig Week — 2019

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And so we say “Farewell” to Craig Week for another year.

Although his life was cut short, Craig lived it to the fullest.  I believe he accomplished everything he ever wanted.

When he was young, he went through phases like everyone else.  In Jr. High he wanted to be a Hell’s Angel. He read the Hunter Thompson book and became fascinated with the lifestyle it portrayed — outlaw rebellion that suited a teenager in the 60s.  But he never bought a motorcycle and I don’t believe he ever learned to ride one.

Likewise, he was wild about tattoos — from the Hell’s Angels age through when he owned a tavern with a magazine stand and got all of the motorcycle and tattoo magazines they offered.  But he never did get around to getting a tattoo.

He wanted to be a truck driver, and starting during the CB radio craze of the late 70s, he went overboard (as he did with all of his passions), erecting an antenna tower at our home and establishing a base station, making sure all of our family cars (mine, Dad’s and his) had radios and we all used them (with proper “handles” or code names).  Even Bart Ward, who was too young to drive, had a CB handle and new how to use the radio.

He finally went to driving school in the early 80s and became an over the road trucker — which he romanticized as a “knight of the road.”  That spilled over into his love of movies and videos and music. 

Yes, his main dream was to be a music man — and that he did.  From his early days in elementary school during the “British Invasion” led by the Beatles, he dreamed of being in a band, and he even assembled a few — before he knew how to play an instrument.

But he did learn and became a professional musician, starting the Legend-In-Their-Own-Mind country rock group, The Bunk House Boys. He bought music equipment, including many guitars and basses, and sound systems, and even a tour bus.  More than that, he guided his brothers into making music and buying MORE guitars.

He also found true love with his wife Joy, and spent the last years of his life with her. After marrying Craig, Joy also went to truck driving school and they became a driving team, crossing the country in every direction from their home base in Wichita.

They were able to buy a wonderful house together, and when they decided that life on the road didn’t fulfill everything they wanted, They bought an Old-Time-Photo business in historic Old Town Wichita.  He proclaimed himself Col. Ward, and then turned his love of Western lore and history to historical re-creation and re-enactments.

Although his last couple of years were not comfortable, he seemed to find peace in the face of death.

As his younger brother, I can truly say that Craig taught me all about life and how to get the most out of it — and he also taught me that when death is inevitable, the best thing you can do is die with dignity.

And now, maybe you understand what a marvelous fellow he was, and why the ones he left behind cherish and celebrate his memory.

To quote a song from his favorite band, The Eagles:

I once knew a man, very talented guy He’d sing for the people and people would cry They knew that his song came from deep down inside You could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes

And so he traveled along, touch your heart, then be gone Like a flower, he bloomed till that old hickory wind Called him home

My man’s got it made He’s gone far beyond the pain And we who must remain go on living just the same We who must remain go on laughing just the same.

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Pizza Rant

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Something that has been on my mind since I started pursuing the keto lifestyle — Pizza

I’m a real pizza snob and I shudder to think of most of the things the world is passing off as pizza. I’m a traditionalist — in most ways. Mainly when it comes to toppings — I prefer plain old Italian sausage, and lots of it. In fact, I can be pretty unbearable when a restaurant skimps on the sausage.

And cheese — plain ole Mozarella is best (although I can endure many others). But no goat cheese, please.

Wade is the world's authority on pizza.
I’m the ultimate authority on pizza — see my official hat?

Fruit does not belong on a pizza — period. Especially pineapple. I can barely countenance ham — and as soon as ham appears on a pizza, most people bring on the pineapple. Chicken — because it will always be white meat, which I detest. And then it has to be barbecue chicken or buffalo chicken. Why? California is the land of oddball pizza — boutique pizza. Gourmet pizza.
Yeccchhh!

In 1980, Ed LaDou (the “Prince of Pizza”) served a monstrosity involving mustard, ricotta, pâté and red pepper to a customer who turned out to be another chef — Wolfgang Puck. Of all the Pucking Luck! This started the trend of “anything goes.” As long as it’s on a crust and is cooked, it could be classified as pizza — by anyone other than me.

Two words that make me shudder — Duck Sausage. By themselves, each ingredient is wonderful. But the sausage on a pizza better not be made from a duck.

Seafood is another untouchable. I know of the long, venerated tradition of anchovies. But I would never eat anchovy pizza unless I were tied to a chair by a SPECTRE torturer and forcibly fed. Yet scallops, lobster, even caviar (roe) appear on exotic pizzas. I think the smell alone would drive me screaming from the restaurant.

Now that I’ve cleared the air, I will tell you of one recent development that I finally tried — and loved.

Cauliflower crust.

I decided to make crustless-pizza to avoid carbs. It’s basically a sheet of cheese with sausage bits and the Italian spices — Oregano, basil, fennel seed, and of course lots of garlic and onion. The melted cheese congeals into a crust and — let’s face it — the spices and sausage make it honest.

But I’d always eaten cauliflower. Not so much because I enjoyed it, but at least it didn’t turn me off. Mashed cauliflower with butter and garlic salt became an acceptable side dish to get away from mashed potatoes.

Why not a cauliflower crust? I thought about it a lot. And then, a couple of weeks ago, as I was crossing a parking lot and passing by a Pieology restaurant, I hailed a worker who was hauling out some boxes to the dumpster and asked if they had such a pizza. He said yes, and it was so popular they had sold out that very day.

So a little later and farther away, I decided to order from them. Pieology has a make-your-own pizza that allowed me to put on the things I like and leave off the things I didn’t.

One of my breaks with tradition — I don’t like tomato sauce. I always get a “white” pizza. Sometimes that is a garlic sause, sometimes Alfredo. I prefer the latter, but would love to have both at the same time. Pieology had a 3-cheese Alfredo that fit the bill, so I got all the non-spiced meats (sausage, Canadian bacon, regular bacon, and salami. Yes — salami — I was really reaching out there!

The delivery was quick and efficient — about ten minutes earlier than promised. And the pie was worth not-waiting for.

If you want to test the field (assuming you are as backward as me and haven’t made the step to cauliflower) you can find crusts in the supermarket. If you want the pros to prepare the food, try Jet’s, Mod, and California Pizza Kitchen — and of course Pieology.

One last thing — I don’t really consider pizza as health food, but if you have to convince a spouse or your children, you can always say that it is high in fiber, choline, and antioxidants.

Maybe I’m evolving — but even my Jewish wife would never eat the so-called “Jewish pizza”, a pizza dough first cooked then topped with smoked salmon, crème fraîche, capers, and dill.

Yeccchhh!

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Craig’s Memorial

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On this day in 2002, I got the phone call.

Everybody remembers where they were when President Kennedy was assassinated. Or if you are younger, maybe when men first landed on the moon. Or even where you were when the Twin Towers fell on 9/11.

I don’t remember exactly where I was when I got the call. My wife and I were in a motel just outside Los Angeles, but I forget which town. It doesn’t matter.

My niece Ali Kinsman called and broke the news. Craig died.

I thanked her — numb, in shock.

As soon as I hung up, I convulsed in tears, howling with rage. It was so unfair. Why did it have to happen?

Estelle grabbed me in a tight hug, but I could feel no comfort.

“We all knew this day was coming, though we hoped it never would.
But it finally came and now he’s gone for good.”

The Recreation Group Gives Craig A 21-Gun Salute

I phone his wife, Joy, a couple of days before. It was Craig’s 49th birthday and he had just been released from the hospital. He was sent home for the last time. I asked how Craig was doing, and she told me he was in a coma. But — always clinging to hope — I reassured myself that people come out of comas.

Not this time.

As the disease progressed, Craig needed more and more medical procedures. I think one of the last ones was removal of his gall bladder. The creeping evil was taking over his body and all we could do was hope for a miracle.

I kept crying, the anger and grief spilling out of me. After all, there was nothing I could do. But I did have Estelle to comfort me.

There was no funeral in the traditional church sense. Joy arranged a memorial service in Wichita — their home.

Craig and Joy had enjoyed camping out and cultivated a circle of friends who were historical recreators. Craig assumed the identity of a mountain man, and they would go camping, roughing it in a modern way. He told me they sang and told stories around the campfire, and arranged knife and hatchet throwing exhibitions. Craig was also a gun afficionado and there was a lot of recreational shooting.

The group came to Craig’s memorial in costume and offered salutes to him that were very touching. But even more touching were the stories they told me about my brother — these people I’d never known.

When Craig got sick, many of them became solicitous. But Craig turned the tables on them. When they wanted to check on his well-being, Craig would inquire about their various problem, offer sympathy and help. One ran into him in the waiting are of the emergency room. Craig expressed concern why she was there. After all, it was no secret why Craig might be there, but he was concerned that something had happened to one of his friends.

He was always — if not chipper — positive and thoughtful. The only time I heard him grumble — even a little bit — was when he told me over the phone, “How come nobody offers Make-A-Wish to me?” He expressed a desire to attend the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, but he didn’t survive long enough even if he would have been well enough to attend.

I was in Las Vegas when Craig told me he had Cancer. Estelle and I lived there around 2000-2001. This was just after 9/11 and Craig told me that there was something on his x-ray. He wasn’t one to complain, and the way he handled it discouraged any direct discussion of morbid subjects.

On one of our talks, I broke down — and I didn’t want to do that. He was the one with a deadly illness, so what did I have to cry about. I was 45 years old, for cryin’ out loud.

I told him, “I don’t think I’m a good American. I’d rather have a big brother than Twin Towers.”

I felt ashamed because so many people died, and I was just selfish wanting my brother to survive.

He didn’t make me feel ashamed. He always said the right things to make me feel better.

“How could any box contain a heart as big as what he had,
And all the love he gave to all he knew?
How could any of us say goodbye? How could we let him know,
What he meant to us, and how we loved him so?”

The pain of loss subsides, but it never goes away. Everyone leaves a mark in this world, and the physical remains turn to memories. But memories are an important building block of life. Memories are something we should preserve and cherish — and that is why I continue to publicly revive these memories. Selfish? I consider them my contribution to improving life in general.

(Lyric Excerpts from the unpublished song “Outside The Box/Larger Than Life.” Lyrics by Laura Principato, music by Wade B Ward copyright 2009.

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Bunk House Boys Throw A Picnic

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Willie Nelson has been a very influential person both in music and in other parts of life. He was certainly influential for the Bunkhouse Boys.

Craig and I saw Willie Nelson perform a few times and of course had some of his records. But another way he influenced us was the way he partied. Willie started a tradition of having a huge concert on the 4th of July. He called it his ” Picnic. “

Bunkhouse Boys picnic crowd gathering.
The Picnic gets lively, thanks to the Stickney Distributors’ Beer Truck back there on the left side of the photo.

Not long after the Bunk House boys got together in 1975 we decided we wanted to do a big full-day blowout. Craig had purchased the local tavern, and so had an “in” with the Coors beer distributor. They allowed us to use a refrigerated truck that held about 10 kegs of beer and had spigots on the outside of the body so you could pour all you wanted. It stored another dozen or so kegs inside the refrigerated section.

We also had volunteers to do the barbecue. I don’t recall exactly how much we charged, but I believe we started out having our own big party on the 4th of July with all the beer you can drink and free barbecue for the low price of $10. Each year was bigger and better.

For music, of course, we decided that the Bunk House boys would be headliners. However we would have other musicians come and play and sometimes jam with various members of our group. We also invited some of the bands and neighborhood towns to come and play.

The Extremes onstage

Mike Miller, a former Norton classmate of Craig’s and owner of West End Recording Studio in the Kansas City area, came down and set up an awesome sound system for us. The stage was a flatbed trailer.

John Hix, another Norton classmate and a talented musician who could play any stringed instrument, would also join the fun.

Those two (Mike played bass) performed rock and new wave music with Ron Bailey on drums and our brother Bart on guitar. We had quite a variety of music going on.

I don’t think any tapes of those concerts survived. I do remember that one time I had one of those large old-fashioned reel to reel tape recorders, and set it up and got quite a bit of a Fourth of July concert on tape.

When you remember what year of this, you’ll understand why I might have made copies off of the master tape onto 8 track tapes. Those things were notoriously fragile, and I doubt if any of them have survived. I believe I also may have made copies on cassette tapes, but those are notoriously low fidelity.

Although I’d love to have a copy of any of those tapes if anyone has any kind of recording from the Bunkhouse Boys, I wouldn’t bet that you would get rich on them because I doubt if they are collectors items.

The party usually started in the afternoon and lasted well into the night until either all the food was gone, the beer was gone, or all the people were gone.

Since we were basically our own bosses, sometimes discipline became a little bit lax. It was often hard to get all of the Bunkhouse Boys on the stage together to play, and sometimes the breaks between sets went on a little longer than expected.

The Bunkhouse Boys Fourth of July picnic was a success and was repeated several times over the next few years. But we did it for the fun mainly — oh, and the food, and the beer, and whatever else would happen during those wild parties.

The wildest one was probably one hosted by Willie and Carol Warren, at their spread out in the country.

They moved to the Hoisington area from the Kansas City area, and Willie had some friends who were bikers that he invited down for one of our parties. And what a wild party it turned out to be!

During the day when the sun was hot, someone got the hose out and soon after — the clothes came off. Pretty soon we had mud wrestling, starting out with a bunch of hairy guys wrestling around in the mud. However I don’t think it took long for some of the ladies to join in.

We also ended up at least one time having a wet t-shirt contest. And I feel safe in saying that since we know that there are photographs surviving from that, some of the participants may hope that those photographs are permanently buried.

These parties were the true Spirit of the Bunkhouse Boys– and that spirit was embodied in Craig — Wild, uninhibited, undisciplined, and a heck of a lot of fun for everybody.

In all the years that we did this, I do not recall a single fight breaking out. Yes there was a lot of drinking going on, and a lot of wild activities, but it was all a big Love fest.

I don’t think that I could handle one of those parties these days. For one thing, I don’t drink anymore. Back then I used to start early and keep a steady pace until late at night. Also I’m more of an early-to-bed person than I was in those days. I was usually one of the last men standing at a party like that.

But if any anybody asks me to describe my brother Craig, I would say the Bunkhouse Boys Fourth of July parties were basically a manifestation of Craig’s personality.

I believe there are quite a few survivors of those parties still around today. Maybe they will send in their reminiscence of those late 1970s parties.

But then again there may be a lot of them who will just take the fifth amendment.

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