We had a great day in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.  The weather was sunny, the crowd was big and friendly and the music was for the most part incredible.   We just breezed right in to the foot of the Golden Towers Stage thanks to the efforts of some gracious friends that had gotten to the park around 4:00 AM to set up tarps right at the foot of the various stages.  ”Just look for the yellow smiley face!” Arlene said.  After catching some well deserved rest at the Stanyon hotel they began to filter in to the park.  Evan and his wife Jaimie from Turlock with Arlene and Melissa from back east. Then Greta (the pride of Manresa Beach!) came meandering in. Last but not least , Jet City interlopers  ;^)  Davo and Grant taxied in from SFO at the last minute .      

We had decided to make the Golden Towers Stage our base of operations because Buddy Miller was starting the day off there.  I hadn’t seen him perform a full set of his own music  since 2002.  It was so good to see him with a full band in good spirits and obviously good health. He turned in a typical great, twangy Buddy Miller set with Regina Carey singing all the Julie parts and Emmylou Harris joining in on a couple songs. Then Robert Plant came in and helped close out the set with “I’m Movin On”, “What You Gonna Do LeRoy?” and “Sea of Heartbreak”.   

Buddy Miller aka The Jesus of Twang

Robert Plant dropped by to pay his respects

Next up was a band called Okkervil River.  I’d never heard of them and we intended to bug out and go over to catch Boz Scaggs but these kids totally won me over. Lead singer Will Sheff poured his heart and soul and eventually his body into this music.  They had the crowd right from the start but then disaster hit when the Will’s mike stand loosened up and  dropped down to waist level. Doh! Sheff  just dropped to his knees and kept singing as the crowd roared.  

Eventually one of his mates came and fixed him up (no help at all from the local soundguys)  Then the poor guy’s guitar cable popped out and again the sound crew didn’t move a muscle to help.  Will looked lost and then angry for maybe…half a second and then he just started dancing and leaping about while furiously strumming a guitar nobody could hear. Scott Brackett, the keyboard player had to quit playing (again) and run up and get things plugged in. Eventually everything settled down and the band melded one of their songs into Sloop John B with the whole meadow joining in on the chorus while Sheff and bassist Patrick Pestorius laughed and triumphantly shoulder butted each other at the mike loving every minute of it.  Ahhhhhh to be young…….

Okkervil 2: Scott Brackett, Lauren Gurgiolo and Travis Nelson

Next up at the Towers of Gold Stage was Old 97s.  A band I was really looking forward to seeing for some reason I can’t remember anymore.  A  joyless performance made worse by a couple of guitars that refused to stay in tune. Best thing I can say is  Jon Langford and Xene Cervenca came out on separate songs to help get the crowd going.  

Ken Bethea, Jon Langford and Rhett Miller

One thing I’d like to mention is the crowd at this event is also part of the show.  You find yourself meeting with music lovers from everywhere around the world. Take for instance Denver and Mary pictured below.  They were visiting California from St. Louis, MO and had run into Marty Stuart at their Hotel.  He told them about the festival and they grabbed a bus to catch his set.  We insisted they share our tarp with us as the ground they were siting on was a bit muddy.  I found out Denver is a passionate and very knowledgeable country music aficionado. This guy took me to school and meeting them was just as much a treat as any of the music we’d heard.  

Mary and Denver Perkins

Last up for Saturday at the Golden Towers Stage was Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives.  I’ll probably be writing more about these guys.  Suffice it to say Brother Marty and his crew brought a ton of Nashville flash and professionalism to San Francisco. I was blown away.

Kenny Vaughn, Harry Stinson, Marty Stuart and Paul Martin

Can't do this in Iran!

Life can get pretty rough for a Marine far from home

Saturday the 4th of July, Micha wanted to go to the range.  OK so maybe it was me that suggested it, but I’ve never had to twist her arm. The girl loves to shoot that .45 

Can't do this in North Korea!

Lance Corporal Eddie had recently qualified Expert with his M16 but confessed he’d never fired a shotgun.  A few speed drills with my old Winchester and he handed it back chuckling “heh…fun.”  

Boom-lakka-boom-lakka-boom-lakka

Over on Tamera’s blog she posed the question as to what was the most patriotic gun one could shoot on the 4th of July.  To my way of thinking it has to be a rifle of some sort.  The 4th is all about standing up to tyranny, not a pistol shot from behind and a leap from the balcony. Nothing says “Don’t tread on me” quite like a rifle owned by a person that knows how to use it.  Which brings me to my last picture.

Central California gets hot in July and the 4th was no exception. 100 degrees in the shade. Our only company at the range was a guy and his two sons  shooting a Mini-14 and a bolt action .22 rimfire.  I made a comment to the father about there not being a better way to celebrate the 4th and he heartily agreed.  I didn’t do much shooting yesterday. I loaded magazines for Mischa and Eddie and fiddled with my Buckmark’s adjustable sights, but mostly I watched the father and his boys.   

I asked them if I could take their picture for this blog.  ”Sure no problem.”

“Do you want me to obscure your faces you know, it’s the internet and all?”

“No that’s OK we’ve got nothing to hide” 

If I talked like Ward Churchill, I would say “on that day….. my heart….it soared like an eagle”.  What’s the most patriotic gun you can shoot on the 4th?  This one right here.

‘‘To preserve liberty, it is essential that the whole body of people always possess arms, and be taught alike, especially when young, how to use them’’ Richard Henry Lee - 1787

Drive south with the one you love...

Mrs. Sepulveda and I had quite a weekend. We started off Friday night up in Davis, CA to see k.d. lang and her new band at the Mondavi Center’s stunning Jackson Hall. Then we saddled up Silver, our trusty 4-Runner and headed 550 miles south for Zog’s memorial service. Bill’s wake was very well attended with laughing men and weeping women.

Lots of weeping women. 

My favorite moment of the service came at the end after all the stories had been told. A guy named Rick from Sonoma who seemed to be officiating, asked for a moment of silence so we could all focus on our favorite Zog memory. It was quiet out there in the warm desert twilight. Little tiny hummingbirds buzzing through the ocotillo…just a beautiful place. Rick looks to his wife in the second row, smiles and says “I know what you’re remembering and I’m getting kind of mad.” Everybody just bust out laughing.  

One more thing. If any of you reading this ever has an overwhelming urge to crush walnuts with your sphincter, Montezuma Valley Grade is a five star place for it.