Homework

    While waiting for our next show, why not play the Wastin’ Away on the North Coast Home Game?
    We drafted up a short list of topics for discussion and we’re eager to find out what your thoughts are too.

  1) All time greatest Buffett song
  2) All time greatest Buffett album
  3) All time worst Buffett song
  4) All time worst Buffett album

    We’re thinking an objective all-time best here — not necessarily your personal favorites. What song or album do you think best represents Jimmy, or would be your one pick to win over a non-fan. Send your ideas to podcast@northcoastcast.com.

New Album’s Out and I’m Fresh On iTunes

    I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and I bought the new album from iTunes. Tipping the scales was the fact the iTMS version has a video I hadn’t heard about. It’s not the “Here We Are” song; it’s a mini-doc on the making of “Party at the End of the World”. And it culminates in some live footage reportedly shot at Pine Knob!
    If so, that means you can see me in this final shot. I’m the one applauding…way at the back…in the dark spot.

Scott’s Corner

    The time has come to reveal the spectacular wonderment that occurred the night of the concert. I truly wished to immediately put pen to paper and construct brilliant prose to justly describe the night’s events, however my dad asked for permission to take on the task. Feel free to send him comments (good ones) at polwonder [at] wideopenwest.com.

THE DAY GOD INTRODUCED HIMSELF TO THE PIESTRAKS

    Some people meet God on their death bed where they repent and regret many of the things they did. Others see Him in a dream where He gives them this week’s lottery numbers or tells them to blow up the abortion clinic that’s around the corner. I have strong reservations about the validity of those “messages from Heaven”. On the other hand, there’s our experience. Most of those others can be explained through a simple explanation like mayonnaise that got too warm, or a bowl of chili that had a little too much “BAM!” We were neither asleep nor near death, so there’s no other explanation other than the obvious one that’s left: Divine Intervention.
    To fully appreciate the story I’m about to relate, you have to be a Parrothead: a strange breed of creature who appear in their full and colorful regalia on a few occasions around the Western Hemisphere that seem to coincide with the appearances of their spiritual leader, Jimmy Buffett. He can’t be pigeonholed into any particular genre. He’s the occasional: redneck philosopher; party animal; drunk; musician; children’s author and one of the few adult authors who have had books on both the New York Times fiction and non-fiction best seller lists. His followers often track the party-creating crusader across the country, and occasionally to treks out of the country to a variety of Caribbean destinations. The followers cover the age spectrum from children to the card carrying members of AARP. It’s in this atmosphere that God chose to show Himself to us; thus reaffirming that God is everywhere, even at a hedonistic semi-rock concert.
    To say you had to be there is an understatement. After Buffett’s three year absence from the Detroit area, we did our duty, standing in line and getting a lucky number that would let us have a chance at getting tickets to the only concert of the year that counts for a Parrothead. Then there were the months of anticipation and then finally the day of September 12. A thick cloud of gloom crept into our minds, only equaled by the dense, dark clouds that filled the skies. Unfortunately, the frequently wrong weather forecasters seemed to have hit this one on the head. They had promised rain, and in some areas, heavy downpours. On this night, Clarkston, Michigan would be one of those areas.
    After arriving in a light mist, we ate our dinner and began to absorb the atmosphere around Pine Knob (aka DTE Enery Music Theater) on the day of a Buffett concert. Buffett music mixes with the sound of blenders humming throughout the parking lot as Parrotheads attempt to transform the DTE parking lot into Margaritaville. Men in grass skirts trying in vain to outdo women in grass skirts suddenly become a normal sight. A half-hour before the concert, the bad news begins to be delivered. The clouds are the messengers God sends. They open up and try to drown the excitement of the beach loving Buffett crowd. It almost worked on us. We later confessed that we all wondered if it was worth going inside to sit/stand on the hill with our lawn tickets. Scott gave up first. His saner side took over and he approached a man who was trying in vain to peddle a third row seat he had purchased for $350 for the “bargain price” of a hundred. “Let me know when you get down to $60,” were Scott’s last words to him. It wasn’t much later when the drenching rain drove the man to taking a big loss so he could go inside to enjoy the dryness of the pavilion. We decided we’d share the ticket, taking turns to enjoy a respite from the downpour while actually seeing the concert.
    Scott went down to his seat and reported by phone that his seat was terrific. Only three rows from the front of the stage, it was a dream few Parrotheads ever realize. Meanwhile, Jeff and I, clad in our dollar plastic ponchos, slosh our way to the concert area. Walking uphill, waves of water wash over our shoes as if we were on a stroll at the beach. We settled on standing in front of the hill. Although we had no hope of sitting, we were standing on solid cement and the thought of sitting on a rain-soaked mix of mud and grass wasn’t very appealing.
    If you wear glasses and are trying to see something in a pouring rain, it’s not easy. Glasses just don’t come with wipers — yet. Seeing the stage clearly was a challenge. Once again the gloom, disgust, and questions floating on the raindrops, ran through our minds. Can this be possibly worth it? No, was the honest answer, but there we stood. I vowed to make the best of it. Then, the cell phone rang. Could that be God calling?
    As exciting as that could be, it wasn’t. B ut it was darn close–it was indeed news from God. Scott was on the line. The gregarious Scott began noticing empty seats in the row around him and began talking to a couple next to him. “Are you expecting some people to join you?” It was then that Scott’s vision was drawn to the man’s shirt pocket where several tickets were peeking out. The unexpected response was that the couple’s friends, obviously not true Parrotheads who deserve tickets to this sacred area, had canceled. Weakened by rain, they sat home to watch some stale rerun of Diagnosis Murder. When the gentleman responded that he had tried to sell the tickets outside, but finally gave up as the rain got harder, Scott made his move. Many would have never made the inquiry, feeling that it would be sort of rude or brazen. Having no shame, Scott uttered the words God had told him to say, “I have two people who are standing in the rain who would love to come down here.” The next thing was amazing. The man gave him two tickets. When I answered the phone and heard the words, “I have tickets for you and Jeff,” I was sure that my approaching dementia was causing me to hear strangely. Then he repeated it and seconds later he was in front of us with tickets in hand, leading us to the promised land where your permission to enter the next level is checked and rechecked every six steps. There we were! The land of milk and honey and at that time, more importantly, dryness. It was hard to believe that only seconds earlier we had been standing in the downpour full of gloom. It was deliverance; our glimpse of how the chosen ones enjoyed things on this night.
    Scott pointed out to me the couple who were our benefactors. As I waddled in front of them, I was carefully trying not to brush up against them with my water-carrying poncho. It was then that the prophetic words came to me. Looking at the middle-aged, attractive lady, I uttered, “So you’re the people God sent.” I swear I don’t know what made me say that. I had only a busy few minutes from the time I received the news to the time I said those words. Her reaction was what finally sealed my belief. A large warming smile came across her face. That was it. It was as if she said, “I’m glad you realize who sent me.” She said nothing else. Then, the house lights went down and the show started. Those were to be my only words to her. They departed with just a few songs left in the concert. I’m sure they left Pine Knob to go back to the wonderful, warm place whence they came.
    I now know how writers feel when they have a story inside them and nothing will stop it from coming out. I really never had this feeling before. Divine inspiration is nothing new. Dante’s Inferno and Handel’s Messiah have no real explanation other than help from the big author in the sky. I don’t begin to equate my effort to theirs, but for the little Polish kid from Fordson High, I figure this is as close as it gets. After telling a friend this story, she cleverly responded with, “I’m glad He didn’t call you up and give you the tickets personally.”
    Me too.

Bubba from the third row

A Note from the Webmaster

    A few people expressed problems downloading our most recent show … and in fact I had a hell of a time uploading it, as well as the second Caseville video. Added to that, the downstreaming Flash videos were verging on being unplayable. All our podcast files were hosted by Go Daddy, which I assumed would be a good and reliable service seeing as they pretty much manage the Internet. I found out afterward — both in reviews and by the hard way — that while they might be a great way to buy domain names, their hosting services are extremely spotty. I was seeing more and more evidence of this as the weeks went on. The last weekend was my last straw. I was annoyed and frustrated enough that I suddenly and perhaps impulsively arranged for another service. Now our files are being served from Bluehost.com, a host recommended to me by a fellow Detroit Podcaster.
    I even purchased a new domain name with them too: wastinaway.net. Wastinaway.com is already in use, by a Jimmy Buffett cover band. (Wastingaway.com (with a “g”) has also been purchased, but by one of those rotten “squatter” companies. So no link for them!) I was torn whether to go with “wastinaway.net” or “wastingaway.net” … and I ended up getting both. It will save us the trouble of over-explaining or of needing to spelli the name out during the shows. (Wastinaway.net is the domain with actual content however; wastingaway.net just redirects you to this same page.)
    With northcoastcast.com and wastinaway.net covered, I’m figuring onthe.org is pretty much inevitable.
    All the files were moved over last night, so hopefully you’ll be enjoying faster download speeds now. You might even have noticed the change, in that some podcatchers recognized the files as brand new today and tried to download them all over again when updated. Sorry about that. There’s no need to download everything over, if your podcatcher has a similar reaction. The audio files are exactly the same, the only change was their location.
    I’m still at sea on what to do with our new site. I’ve toyed with starting a new blog there or even a Wiki or discussion board. But this might mean losing some of the features and probably some of the comments stored here. The one thing I did get started is a photo gallery, which so far includes Greg’s Caseville photos and some pictures from Big Al’s.
    As for now, the aim is to offer speedier and more reliable delivery of our content. Because, as I said somewhere else, downloading our shows should be no more painful than listening to them.

Cheeseburger in Caseville 2006: Video Diary

Friday, August 11 2006
    2:00 PM: Show up at Joe’s. Pick up Greg.
    3:30 PM: Mike is so eager to get out of his office he said his chair is probably still spinning.
    5:30 PM: Get to Bad Axe. Check into our room. Tequila shots. Head over to Caseville at 7:40 PM.
    8:15 PM: Buy $5 button at amphitheater for admission to all shows. Walk around town. Have dinner and drinks at Riverside Roadhouse.
    12:30 AM: Back at our room in Bad Axe. More tequila shots. Watch TV and video files off Mickey’s laptop.
    2:30 AM: Bedtime.
    4:30 AM: Mickey finally falls asleep, tiring of using audiobooks to drown out Schmoe’s snoring

Saturday, August 12 2006
    Morning: Schmoe, Mike, and Greg avail themselves of the continental breakfast as well as the swimming pool and hot tub.
    11:40 AM: In an unusually quiet room, Mickey finally wakes up.
    12:30 PM: Head back to Caseville.
    1:00 PM: Go to beach first. Buy $6 sunglasses. Find out we could’ve gotten into amphitheater free from the beach.
    Afternoon: Mike had seen sign for gumbo so we walk to Farm Restaurant to buy some. Lines to order and to pick-up food are confused and wait is long. No alcohol either.
    Later: We walk to Elizabeth Port Grill for Bourbon Burger and Coronas. Next door, in the park, the Lost Shakers are playing. Go across the street to buy “Mike’s Hard Mike-aritas.”
    Later still: Walk several blocks to official store. Buy shirts and souvenirs. Interview Marie who invites us to look for Steve by the pink bus at tonight’s concert.
    Sunset: Go back to beach, worried lots might be locked-up before long. Park on the street, stop at party store, return to amphitheater for Air Margaritaville.
    Evening: Sound problems cut first set short. Manage to videotape both rounds of cheeseburger eating contest (but footage is too dark to be useable). Finally find Steve during Ai Margaritaville’s second set and record interview. See a shooting star but Mickey misses it.
    Night: Stuck on the sidewalk as bars are at capacity. Find out about Hersel’s and drive a few miles out of town to find it. Pay $3 cover, quickly buy Coronas, and stand near the dance floor watching the young girls act slutty. DJ clears dance floor by playing “Come Monday”…and even ruins it for us older folks by trying to sing along without benefit of knowing the words.
    Late night: Head back to Bad Axe. Mike makes margaritas. Mickey determinedly stands out in parking lot in bare feet until he can see his own shooting star.

Cheeseburger in Caseville 2006

    Our visit to the festival was a lot of fun. We shot some video, took some photos, and recorded some audio…much of which I hope to upload to the site or include in our podcasts. I’m slowly editing some Flash videos so check this space to see when I’m done. Or you can head over to Caseville right now and make your own memories! The festival lasts through Sunday, August 20.

Stories We Could Tell

    We really should have learned by now not to make promises. Every time we promo some upcoming idea, it never comes to fruition. Case in point, Mike and Joe’s plan to do remote recordings during their vacation. You might have noticed that, despite our promises, nothing was uploaded last week.
    However, it appears something was recorded after all — although I know better now than to make any promises when this material might be published.
    Here’s what Joe sent me, upon his return.

Hey Mick. The reason you didn’t see me send any more files is that it became apparent anything near 5MB was taking too much time. And we also lost power and internet access for a bit with our big storm on Monday. I gave up after that, but I do have some audio and video files to share. I hope to burn them or stick them on my flash drive for Wednesday.

    Details to follow, most likely when we hash things out in this week’s show.
    I promise.

Porch’d!

    Yesterday, right before I left for work, I caught a news story about an old man who’d accidentally crashed his car into someone’s porch. It had happened in Dearborn and I waited to find out on what street it had taken place. Two of our podcasters live in Dearborn and I was wondering if this might have occurred near them. No one in the house was hurt, since the residents were on vacation. The old man however is in serious condition. The reporter never did give a street name.
    The following day, just a moment ago, I got an e-mail from Joe.

    Greg is on vacation. Houghton Lake or wherever he goes. He calls me at 12:30pm yesterday on my cell. He had just found out that, within the hour, his 92-year-old neighbor across the street came out of his driveway and rammed into Greg’s porch and garage at 55 miles per hour! He’s lucky nobody was home. I guess the fire department had to demolish Greg’s property more to get this guy out. He was at the hospital and there were questions he would live. Greg asked me to check it all out, although he had been in touch with a well-informed neighbor anyway.
    I jogged over there. The porch is screwed up – some cement is crumbled and his landscaping stones/bricks are messed up. Some glass is still there and a bunch of oil-dry. The garage door is gone. Completely. They have put this ply-wood up (the city does this I guess) with hinges so barely — and I mean BARELY — a car may be able to fit through perfectly. I know he has a car in there. It is all locked up and a key is either being sent to him or is with the neighbor.
    Crazy. Fox 2 was supposedly there. I recorded most of the early Fox 2 News for him. This is really why Greg contacted me. To record his house on TV.

    Never did I expect that the poor sap who’d had his house driven into would be someone I know! And you know him too, in a way, since Greg has been a frequent contributor to this here podcast. He can be heard in episodes 2, 3, 6, and 7.
    Incredible!
    Here’s what our NBC affiliate, WDIV, has to say:

    A car crashed into a house in a Dearborn neighborhood on Thursday morning.

    The motorist crashed his car into the front of a home on North Vernon Street just after 10 a.m., according to police.
It is believed the driver suffered a medical condition while backing out of his driveway across the street, Local 4 learned.
    The driver was seriously injured in the crash, according to Dearborn police.
    No other injuries were reported.

    And here’s ABC affiliate WXYZ’s coverage:

    An elderly man was hospitalized in serious condition, Thursday, after plowing his car into a neighbor’s Dearborn home.

    According to police, the 89-year-old man was backing into his own garage when he hit the wall. He then put the car into drive and possibly panicked, hitting the gas and driving across the street and into his neighbor’s porch.
    The man, who was alone in the car, was taken to Henry Ford Hospital. There was no one home at the neighbor’s house at the time of the accident.
    Neighbor Darlene Fisceri said a year and a half ago the man accidentally backed over his wife as she was taking something out of the trunk and broke both her legs.
    Police said the man does have a valid driver’s license.

    What’s also amazing is that the car came from across the street. The video footage makes it look like the car came from next door, from the angle of the crash; but the car reportedly came up the driveway and then swerved at the last second. You can barely see skidmarks on the driveway where the old man must have avoided hitting the garage. The neighbor quoted in the WXYZ story added that after impact the driver was found on the floor of the car, with his legs under the steering wheel and his head under the glove compartment. It’s unfortunate he may have sustained serious injuries in the accident, and we look forward to hearing of his improved recovery. We’re also looking forward to hearing Greg’s side of the story.

Buffett Listening Party #2

    As hinted in the last show notes, here’s some video from Saturday, July 1. Mike offered to host our second Buffett listening party, where we could gather for Sirius’s presentation of the Jones Beach concert. Schmoe was threatened by undersea monsters, and Mike’s wife Sarah, after one bottle of Twisted Tea, stole the show, singing her “Night Light” song and mistaking “conga lines” for “party lines”.

    (As before, the above is also available in QuickTime [with synched audio] through our podcast feed.)

BONUS: 2006 Radio Ad

    I recorded WCSX (94.7 FM) for eight hours Sunday and Monday to catch this ad. It aired at 9:22 AM Monday, less than an hour before Pine Knob tickets went on sale.

    Yes, they’re still using audio from Feeding Frenzy.
    And here’s the ad from Sunday’s Detroit Free Press, from page 3F of the “Entertainment” section.

Second Free Press ad