I Simply Love Music Too Much Not To Share This Great Concert Video
Here’s a Great Musical Group Live in Action from August 25th, 1984. All the bells
and Whistles are in it. Anything, any trick you can imagine from a
front man Guitarist/Singer along with a superb support group. that you just couldn’t ask for any better.
Now that you watched this wonderful video, was I right or was I right? Cool Huh?
Due to Family Medical Emergency
For Sale: Shane has Made Available Part of his Stage Gear
The Images are of some equipment being liquidated from our “Jungle Studio” These are wonderful pieces of musical equipment all in excellent condition American Made and are priced to sell at about 1/3 of their retail Values Contact Shane at 424.224.0360 for further information
Listed are: 2 Guitars, 2 Vintage Tube Guitar Amps and 1 Solid State Guitar Amp
Fender M-80 Amp & HM 4-12A Cab
Made in March 1992, Brea, California
Fender M-80 Head and matching 4×12 Stereo Ready Cabinet
Marshall JCM800 4210 50watt Tube Amp 1987
Cabinet Loaded with 2×12 Rola G12-80 Celestions
Carruthers ACS Acoustic/Electric Guitar 2007
Carruthers ACS6 Custom Guitar 2007
Carruthers ACS6 Custom Guitar 2007 Spread Sheet
UGLY-18 Boutique Tube Amp 2006
TUBE WORKS Cab
Loaded with 2×12 G12K-85
UGLY-18 Tube Amp and Speaker Cabinet 2×12
UGLY-18 Tube Amp and TUBE WORKS Speaker Cabinet _ Rear Views
Review and Magazine Article re UGLY-18 Amp 2006
Page 2 Review and Magazine Article re UGLY-18 Amp 2006
To all the special women: Happy Mother’s Day To Mom’s everywhere, who have given so much of themselves to care for us.
Mom’s who do so dearly love their children. I appreciate you and I know darn well
we all do appreciate you. So to all Moms’ out there:
Have a Great Day this coming Sunday. Happy Mother’s Day
Visit my profile soon and find a track in my player I have called “Postcard Pretty”. This is a very special track that I will attempt to upload right after this message is sent. It is something that I recorded for my Mom to receive for Mothers Day this year.
We have seen each other maybe three times since I started touring around in 1983. Of those three times, one was from her traveling from her home in Windsor, Ontario, Canada to Long Beach California to my ICU bedside as a result of a motorcycle crash. At that time, I didn’t even fully realize that she had made the trip.
Also included in the three visits was Mom making another special long journey because she just had to know for herself if her son was eating every day? That was a short three day visit. During another trip just to see if the kid was alright, I happened to talk her into wearing a pair of headphones and asked her to read a poem that she had written and sent to me in 1995. The poem is a visual she had imagined as to the life and look of what she could only perceive I lived like. Remember now, she resides in a part of Canada that really doesn’t see all the elements that one is exposed to in everyday life in the big USA cities. I think the annual murder rate is about 8 a year and so and so on… Windsor, Ontario is a ¾ mile distance away from the “Murder City” Detroit, Michigan. She probably has been in MI maybe five times, to drop me off at Detroit International or something like that. Simply Put! What’s next is a real cool read once the image is understood, so bare with me.
Post Card Pretty in a Framed Gold Record awarded for Luna Sea
So let me set the stage: Mom, who is the “Aunt Bea” of Windsor, Ontario, Canada to me, who just a half hour ago, was dropped off by Super Shuttle, the Van/Cab service from Los Angeles International Airport. She is at my studio door and I had not a clue that She was coming and my Dad was the escort to see that was traveling safely. There was the USA/Canada border to cross, major freeways to travel, an international airport to figure out. No ticket to get a boarding pass, definitely the long way around… Then there’s the issue that De-boarding a plane with no welcoming party at LAX instantly brings to mind. Not at all knowing where to go and nothing but an old bail bonds receipt that listed the most current address for her Son to date. Here it is, I hear a knock at my studio in San Pedro, California. Opening the front door was soon to be a shock that I was still contending with until 5 minutes from now. That’s about when the uploading of this here new song will be done.
So! I had to do something and do it real fast just to keep my head on straight. Do you know what I mean? Move this, hide that, cover that over there, stand in front of this and maybe lean back some to camouflage something else, or keep her busy doing something that’s not cleaning, cooking or doing laundry.All of a sudden and on a quick move on my part (I must Say) she is now sitting on a chair in the middle of my studio with her only ever written poem right in her hands, which by the way, is mounted in a Gold Record Award that hangs on my wall. I put it there the very day I got it enclosed in a letter in one day’s mail. The Award comes from FIREFALL. The Album: LUNA SEA. This special memento was given to me by one of the FIREFALL members as a reminder of what his feelings were regarding my music and not to ever stop going for it. That’s why I mounted her poem in that frame. Mom was the inspiration of a great many parts of me and she always went for it as is evident you may notice within this read.
Anyways, here’s the image to get. Mom, 68 years young, with a can of Budweiser beside her, which she only took one courteous sip from, the original copy of her poem in her hands, two microphones right in her face (I wasn’t taking any chances on any equipment glitch) and my favorite set of headphones awkwardly adorning on her head. They fit a little crookedly as I do recall. Dad was outside on the front porch with my old girlfriend, I think giving his wife some elbow room to do what was to come. All of a sudden she was now taking directions, from her “set in his ways”, producing/engineering Son. Wow, what a blast…
Mom performing her poem titled Postcard Pretty
Oh ya! The date was July 11th 2009, one day after my birthday, and the poem was something she wrote and had sent to me back in 1995. Back then it came to me with a special request for me to write some music to it, record it and get the final deal published. She wanted all her friends and family members to enjoy her published work. I was to have one of my connects get this it published which I imagined she could direct her people to easily find and view. Wow! She wanted to know what that felt like one time in her life. Does “Bucket List” sound familiar here? “You must know somebody amongst all your friends in Hollywood…” she said in the letter. Are you folks getting the image yet???
Mom had no idea who FIREFALL was and was completely unaware as to what that framed contained anyway. It was where her poems ended up from 15 years ago and know this, Moms’ don’t forget anything. I know that she was feeling let down because I didn’t get it published for her sister and brothers to see. The people at the Canadian legion Friday night Bridge Club just politely stopped asking Mom about where to look for the poem her Son was going to get published. Yikes…
Mom is Post Card Pretty to Me
I tell ya what! She supplied me with two good readings and did just great. Dad and My friend Nancy where posted outside The Jungle Studio Door to make sure any visitor would wait till our session was completed to ensure that old “on air’ effect stayed in play as well.
Dad, the perfect escort for Recording Artist Mom
We got it done in two takes because I had her laughing so much and when she muffed a word during the first take, her French came out. Actually the frame is so big she swore in French after not being able to read it from the glare the lights put on it. Perfect I thought to myself. That’s why I didn’t get it published I could say. I didn’t get the glare and the lights thing yet. That dear old woman was doing everything she could do, to make her big timin’ old Son happy [those are my words by the way]. She would never ever say such things of her Son. Note how true that statement is though… Lights or no lights, glare or no glare, she remembered every single word and intended inflections she originally gave to this piece 15 damned years ago. As I listened to her deliver her piece, I thought, Shane you idiot, what were you thinking all those years ago. Heck I could have done some kind of Hollywood thing to this poem of Mom’s. Shit you can give $250.00 dollars to some book of poem publishing outfit in N.Y. or L. A. somewhere that make a living adding people’s dreams in a limited hard to find publication somewhere. I know I have seen that advertized in the in flight magazine stowed in the pouch of the seat in front of me. Ding, Dong…
Okay, now to finish the story. I used most of Mom reading her poem in a piece I call “Postcard Pretty”. Got that from one of her Verses too… I added me playing guitar and singing one of her verses exact, and I do mean verbatim. Very important to not change a word because she’ll know and ask why. Then to conclude I gave the track to Mom for a Verse and a half.
Publishing issue: How about Live Blues World? I have no idea who will read it or how many either, but it is in the media and it is a publication and I do revere being a member myself huh? Also not yet a month and a half old is my Performing and Recording Artist Web Site on which I show my wares and sell my craft’s work. That is a publishing medium huh?
So it will all get covered, like I said in five minutes after I finish this little letter and upload to the Live Blues World Web Site.
Note from today May 12th, 2013 Mothers Day from Shane: Post Cart Pretty has been published on My Space, Face Book, Live Blues World, Soundclick, OBRIENSEDGE, Twitter, CD Baby, Amazon, I tunes and others that I can’t bring to mind… to the hit count of at least 40,000 plus plays and we are still counting especially considering it has been published every mothers day since 2010. I’d like to thank everyone who has shared a momment with this posting as I’m sure you can tell how dear it truly is for Mom and any Mother reading this story as well. Aren’t they all Da Bomb. Till next year everyone