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July 2015

Summer- Mouse

Summertime at the Three Blind Mice in Mt. Clemens, Michigan has been a great time to stop in, drink an ale and hear a song or two.

We played to a good crowd, filled with patrons and summer-revelers that seemed to enjoy each melody.  (Ok, it was the ale, but we can understand that).

Inside, by the barrels is where we have been hiding from the malicious sun, this summer.  On this night, it was no different.

Although it was beautiful outside, the patio has been the home of the resident Dj this year. It gets cold most night, and you can never tell what this crazy Michigan weather will do.

So, we play inside; which is perfect for us.  We can concentrate on the music, and not have to worry about the elements.

So in that spirit, we pretty much enjoyed everything on this night.  Good song, good drink and wonderful friends that gave us the inspiration to play the music of our lives.

I have mentioned before that in Michigan, in the summer, there are so many choices  for entertainment.  So many things to do or places to go.  When people make the choice of visiting our show, it is a great compliment to us and the establishment where we entertain.

We played any, many requests on this night, which always makes us feel wonderful.  To be able to channel those musical memories for people is one of the main reasons that we still are playing, after all these years.  Guess it makes us feel appreciated.

We will  play the Mice again soon, so please come by and share the evening with us.  No matter what weather awaits you.

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Rb

An Independence Day

Summer seems to have arrived; and just in time for an Independence day that will be long remembered.

Not for anything catostrophic or salacious, but for the sheer air of relaxation that surrounded it.

Everywhere we looked, it was apparent that families were gathering to simply enjoy this holiday, in ways that weren’t possible over that last few years.

People just feel better about things right now.   Better about the economy.  Better about jobs.  Better about the state of things; the direction we are headed.  Better about the future.

You can sense it everywhere.  Most notably from our perspective are the small, community concerts that were the very first to be eliminated due to buracratic cost-cutting.

Look around, now and you will see local concerts aplenty.  (great news for starving musicians everywhere).

The talent contests that have captured everyone’s attention over the last decade have finally ebbed.  With it the glut of attention focused on finding the “next unknown Idol”.  Most of the time, people with real talent are not that difficult to spot.  Your ears actually have the ability to hear someone who is gifted.  But it is not always about pure vocal talent.

People have always, and will always just want to be entertained.  For an hour, for a day, or even for an entire season.  People need to get away from their troubles and cares.  To see, hear or experience artists that expand their horizons.  To listen as the human condition is shared with them form another perspective.  To hear or read ideas and thoughts that confirm what they, themselves have been feeling inside.

There are many reasons that art connects with people; and on a beautiful day like this, all of them find a home.

Carl and I stood on the edge of the pool at Great Oaks Country Club in rochester Michigan, with smiles a big as the Grand Canyon.  Although the last time we were there, we were soaked to our skins; nothing could possibly dampen this incredible day.

83 Degrees.  Poolside.  Barbecue to our right.  Cabana to our left.  Beautiful smiling people.  families frolicking in the water.  If we had a problem on a day like this; we were truly in the wrong business.

We began the day with a simply song written by Jimmy Buffett . . .

Squalls out on the gulf stream
Big storm’s comin’ soon
I passed out in my hammock
And God I slept till way past noon

Stood up and tried to focus
I hoped I wouldn’t have to look far
I knew I could use a bloody Mary
So I stumbled next door to the bar

And now I must confess, I could use some rest
I can’t run at this pace very long
Yes, it’s quite insane, I think it hurts my brain
But it cleans me out and then I can go on

There’s somethin’ about this Sunday
It’s a most peculiar gray
Strollin’ down the avenue
That’s known as A1A

Feelin’ tired, then I got inspired
I knew that it wouldn’t last long
So all alone I walked back home
Sat on my beach and then I made up this song

And now I must confess, I could use some rest
I can’t run at this pace very long
Yes, it’s quite insane, I think it hurts my brain
But then it cleans me out and then I can go on

Well, the wind is blowin’ harder now
Fifty knots or thereabouts
There’s white caps on the ocean
And I’m watchin’ for waterspouts

It’s time to close the shutters
It’s time to go inside
In a week I’ll be in gay Paris
That’s a mighty long airplane ride

And now I must confess, I could use some rest
I can’t run at this pace very long
Yes, it’s quite insane, I think it hurts my brain
But it cleans me out and then I can go on
Yes, it cleans me out and then I can go on

TRYING TO REASON WITH HURRICANE SEASON
Jimmy Buffett

Why people around the world can relate to Jimmy’s music, can be found in the lyrics.  The simple, universal tenant of escaping from the daily grind and hustle of a world spinning out of control.

We have all worked incredibly hard over the last decade; and now maybe, just maybe; it is time to reap some of the fruits of that labour.

Song after song that echo the timeless notion of relaxation begin to have the designed effect on the Great Oaks membership: they soon fall under our spell of smiles and sloth.

No matter.  That is why we are here.  To bath the people in a shower of warm memories and rhythm.  On this day, things went exactly according to plan.  So good in fact, one of the members sponsored us to play an extra half hour!

A day that began as a lazy poolside melody, was ended in a way that has been our tradition for twenty years at Great Oaks.

THIS LAND IS MY LAND
Woody Guthery

This land is your land, This land is my land,
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters;
This land was made for you and Me.

As I went a-walking that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me.

I roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
All around me a voice was a-sounding;
This land was made for you and me.

There was a high wall there that tried to stop me
A sign was painted said “Private Property”
But on the backside it didn’t say nothin’
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling;
the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling.
A voice was chanting, the fog was lifting
This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land, This land is my land,
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters;
This land was made for you and me.

These two songs framed our day in such a fashion that the families might only remember years from now.  (maybe in worse times).  Both songs point to the gulf stream.  Both urge us to slow down, look around and take pride and hope in what we have.

The only thing that could possibly be added is enjoyment of family and friend; and because were area free people, we do not take that for granted.

Ever.

Rb

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A Musical Legacy

With the welcome warm temps, blue water and relaxing vacations, also come the dreaded summer lulls at the Three Blind Mice Irish Pub in beautiful, downtown Mt. Clemens, Michigan.

We all know that June, July & August days and nights in Michigan are prized beyond many things.  So when the thermometer says 72 and beyond, it means that people are out and about; doing as much as they can do.

For us, it means that there will be nights like we had last Friday, when patrons filled the patio; but did not venture inside until the sun went down.

All good with Carl and I.

At its’ core, the Three Blind Mice is a gathering place; a musical destination around these parts; where people that love music can go and hear great renditions of their favorite music.  As it should be.

By now the word is out that in here, music is as important at the food and ale.  (well, ok, now I’m exaggerating!).  Well, it’s right up there in the top three!

Since long before the Mice was opened, the three owners’s idea was to bring to Mount Clemens a pub that was much more than we have seen around here for quite some time.

More atmosphere, more service, more drink choices and much, much more music.
So far, so great!  The service brings you back.  Smiling wait-staff who cater to your every table desire.  A menu that excels at selection; and the music . . .   well, the music is a welcome alternative to the hum-drum, worn out Karaoke holes-in-the-walls that sprang up in the last forgettable musical decade.

Go anywhere in the world and tell them that you are from Detroit, and watch their reaction . . .

. . . first thing they do is to take a step back.  (scan you up and down, checking for both guns and or bullet holes).  Then they usually smile and bask in the warm glow of an classic Motown tune!

Michigan music is revered through the world.  The artists, the concerts; the songs.  The are our legacy.  Our calling-card.  Our birthright.

Incredible music has been our export for 50 years now; with no signs of abatement.

So given this heritage, this legacy; when an artist takes the stage in Michigan, they have much to live up to.  Much is expected.  Fortunately, much is delivered.

You can still hear music in most cities and towns.  Good music.

Case in pointe:  Come into the Three Blind Mice, order your favorite adult beverage; sit back and listen.  You will be rewarded with some of the best artistry and showmanship that can be found anywhere.

Since our first night at this venue, we have seen many great groups that posses incredible  talent and musicianship.  A very proud heritage, that has been passed on since the world took notice of more than motor cars in the early sixties.

Each and every night that we perform, it is our “musical” duty to uphold that torch that every artist who came before us has passed on.

On this Friday night that began very slow, we were very fortunate to spend time with some new fans and friends; some from as far away as England.

Editors' Note: the mark of a great pub is where anyone from anywhere can instantly feel at home, just by coming inside!

Its great when it is packed, don’t get me wrong.  However, when it is slower, we are able to spend more time getting to know the patrons that are the entire reason we are here.

We listen to their stories, (we explain why we make some many bad notes . . .), and we hear about their musical heroes and favorite songs.

So on this particular Friday, when the crowd would ebb and surge throughout the night, we were given the opportunity to make many new friends.

We met several great couples, who shared their suggestions on everything from musical anecdotes to cultural witticisms.  (You can really learn a lot when you just take the time to listen.)

We had a very talented woman sit in with us again, and share her wonderful voice with the exuberant crowd.  (Her friends liked it too!)

We met Ron and friends, a program director associated with a local radio station from Bloomfield HiIMG_8796lls, who along with teaching students, has been doing all he can to promote and nurture local musical artists.  Here is Biff Radio, and this is the link to his radio show: Motorcitystatic.

 

There was even a surprise visit from a friend of ours, whom we have played music with for nearly forty years: The equally legendary Adam Allen.

Adam has played in several bansanctuary-FINALds and shows with us going way back to our early days in Algonac around 1977.

He played with us, then his own band; and even toured with the immortal Badfinger for a time.  He is truly the greatest guitar player we have ever been lucky enough to hear; and still plays locally.As the night drew on, the crowd, (now inside), enjoyed every note.  Finally the last song ended, and Carl and I packed up our guitars for the evening.

Working at the Mice, though rewarding, is truly exhausting.  So it was with much pride and satisfaction that we loaded the equipment into the van, for tomorrow’s performance.

Knowing that once again the musical torch remained burning brightly.

Rb

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BOB AND CARL