Chizmo Charles

I just heard that we lost the great Chizmo Charles. Damn....this sucks.

For the uninitiated, Chiz was, without a doubt, the Burgh's own King of the Blues. He'd been active in the local music biz for at least 60 years. No one sang like Chiz, nor was anyone that cool.

When I moved back here in 1990, I'd hear his name. He was already a well-established legend. One night, down at the old Blue Note, he was fronting The Mystic Knights...and knocking the place dead. The stage was up on the tiny balcony, and Chiz was down on the main floor, walking around with his million foot long mic cable, singing and shmoozing all the women. He was the ultimate entertainer. My buddy Doc was the guitar player in the band at the time, and he invited me up to sit in on a couple of songs. Chiz never noticed me heading up the steps to the stage. When it came time for a solo, I cranked up and blasted out some crazy, doublestop-filled licks. I remember Chiz turning and looking up at the stage wondering just where the hell that racket was coming from!

He later complimented my playing, and coming from the likes of him, that was a serious compliment. He'd played with everyone.

I'd run into Chiz at The Decade now and then, or at various shows. He was everywhere. When I used to wear my hair in a giant pompadour, he always told me I had the best hair in show biz! He was a riot.

The world will be a much sadder, quieter place now that he's gone. At least he left us some music...and I highly recommend checking it out.

Rest In Peace Chizmo! That great band in the sky finally has a singer!

The Dog

I'll tell you this story as it was told to me, by my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Wise.

When I was a kid, our school was right near a cemetery. As the school budget was iffy at best, a lot of our field trips, when we had them, were cost effective, to say the least. This meant that all they cost was time. In all honesty, these were the more memorable ones...at least for me.

One day, our 2nd grade teacher took us on a field trip...to the cemetery. This might sound creepy or morbid to some, but really, it was pretty cool. Union Cemetery, was behind the school (and possibly where the really bad kids ended up). As cemeteries go, it's a winner. I read once that it's considered one of the most beautiful in the country. Folks have prom and wedding photos taken there. It's as beautiful as any park.

On this field trip to the cemetery, we were taught about different types of trees, plants, customs, and local history. To me, one of the more memorable bits of information was about the dog statue.

The story goes that the dog's owner was an elderly bachelor. Popular among his small group of friends, he died alone with no family to really mourn him...just his faithful companion, a spaniel.

The dog was so heartbroken at his master's passing that he laid down on the grave and wouldn't budge. Friends came by to feed him, but the dog wouldn't eat. The dog eventually died there, on his master's grave...presumably of a broken heart.

One of the bachelor's friends was an iron worker, and apparently a true friend. He wanted to memorialize this tale, so he formed a statue of the dog out of metal, painted it, affixed it to a stone platform and placed it at his friend's grave, where it still sits today.

When I made plans to go to Ohio today to visit the old graveyard, one of my goals was to find this statue...if it was still there. I 1st heard the story 40 years ago, and it was old then. Who knew if it was even still there. My memory being swiss cheese since the coma, I'm lucky to not get lost in my own house, let alone a large cemetery I haven't visited in decades.

After wandering around for a half hour or so, I ran into a lady. She, like me, is a fan of the cemetery and visits often. I asked if she knew where it was, and she admitted she'd not seen it nor heard the story. A recent transplant to the area, she was tickled to hear the story.

Finally after walking all over the cemetery, I remembered that it was up on one of the hills, so uphill I went. I finally found it. To my pleasant surprise, someone had recently placed a ribbon on the dog. The statue itself is looking pretty beat and weathered...but you would too after decades outside. This was the first time I really took a good look at the dog. The artwork is impressive! The iron worker seemed to capture the dog's feelings of loss. See what you think.

The Kid

It's been awhile since I've blogged...mostly because I doubt anyone cares to read about my mundane existence or my less than exciting job. Really, it's boring as hell.

Anyhoo, spring has finally sprung and the weather has been decent. We, in the greater Pittsburgh area, were blessed with a beautiful weekend. While I probably should've done some yard work, I just didn't feel like it. I've got a fair bit going on in my private life that has my brain in serious need of distraction, and yard work just wasn't gonna do the trick. So today...I went to the park instead.

I tried getting ahold of a few friends to see if anyone wanted to find something interesting to do...but no one wanted to do anything, so having no qualms with flying solo, I grabbed a guitar and headed off to my favorite park. (Pittsburgh has a large number of fantastic parks!)

Just as I hoped, there were hardly any people there...just the way I like it. I swear, the older I get the less social I am. I saw a young family enjoying the day, a few cyclists, an old guy walking his dog, and that was about it. This particular park is down by the river, so it always amazes me that more folks don't use it...but seriously, it's A-OK with me that they don't. Too many people would ruin it.

I parked the car (the HHR Puff-N-Stuff), grabbed the guitar and a bottle of water and headed for the far end of the park....my favorite spot. It has a nice view of the river, one of our many bridges, boats, birds, some interesting historical markers, and lots of rocks. Nice and shady too!

I sat down on one of the rocks and just started playing. Some old country, some slide, just whatever I felt like. A handful of people walked over to listen, they seemed to enjoy themselves (not that it mattered to me, really...but it's always nice to know I still some level of skill). They were all very polite and thanked me for the music. I just smiled, nodded, and kept on playing. Finally, it was time for a change of venue.

At this end of the park is a neat old stone overlook down closer to the river. That's where I really like to go. It's quiet, secluded, and has a gorgeous view. It's peaceful. There's often graffiti and some broken glass (kids? winos? who knows!) but it never dissuades me. I just like it there...so there's where I headed.

As the weather was perfect, 74 and sunny, I took off my jacket, picked up the guitar and resumed playing and singing. I guess my voice was carrying as when I looked up the steps, I saw a handful of people had gathered, and were all seeming to enjoy the music...or the sight of some old guy acting the fool and singing old songs...either way, they applauded when I stopped for a bit to enjoy my water.

A little while after I resumed playing, a young kid and his mum came down to the overlook.  Really, I didn't want an audience...but hey, it's a public place. Nothing I can do about it. The kid, probably around 10 years old or so, had this mean, thug wannabe look on his face. He eyeballed me when he got to the landing and I gave him a "Howdy chief!". He replied with a half-hearted "Sup". His mum, just smiled, and went about ignoring the view in lieu of her phone...which was obviously more interesting than me...which again, was A-OK with me.

I just kept on playing.

The stone wall of the overlook is about 3 feet high or so, and a couple of feet thick, so the kid did what any kid his age would do...he climbed on it. He was just amusing himself, while his mum pleaded with him to be careful and not fall into the river. Mind you, it'd be a 20 or so foot fall. I wondered if my guitar would work as a short term flotation device...just in case.

Every now and then, I caught the kid checking me out. I don't think old country blues was something he was familiar with...but he seemed to be enjoying it. Like any kid his age, he was keeping himself busy climbing the stone wall along the steps while mum chattered on her phone. The kid also kept his eye on me. Did he think I was gonna bug his mum? I was too busy doing my own thing to really be bothered.

Finally, he comes back down to the overlook, sits up on the wall near me, and was seriously checking out the music I was playing. He started snapping his fingers along with the rhythm. I thought it was pretty cool. He jumped down off the wall, still snapping away, and started stomping his feet in time with the music. He was really digging it! I have to admit, it made me smile...and it made me play better. Song after song, he just got into it.

Finally, his mum decided it was time to go. She gave me a smile and tried to get junior's attention. I don't think he wanted to go...but as we all know, at that age - what mom says, goes. As he headed up the steps, he turned around, came back to me and said, "Hey Mister! Thanks for playing music!" It was the most genuine compliment I think I've ever received. His whole demeanor had changed in the short time we were in each other's company. Gone was his thuggy grimace...replaced by a more age-appropriate smile. His eyes seemed brighter. I overheard him and his mum as they walked up the steps.

Mum: You seemed to like his music.
Kid: Yeah! He was really good!

Halfway up the steps, I couldn't hear them anymore...but again, it made my day. This kid probably hasn't heard a lot of acoustic music in his life, let alone live and in person. It seemed to have a positive effect on him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part...but really, I think it did.

Hey Kid! Thanks for diggin' the music!