Merry Christmas, Baby

The Astros are letting Wade Miller walk. He had a frayed rotator cuff last June, and instead of going under the knife he opted to rehab it. Now, unsure how healthy he is, they'll let him go instead of ponying up a few mil.

I say he's worth a look. He's got a record, if I recall, of 31-12 with a good ERA. Young, talented, and likely to be cheap given the unknown health factor... He's low-risk, high upside at this point. Could be a nice Christmas gift for the Rangers.

***

Christmas of '86 had just passed when my old party buddy Tully Farley and I went to Houston to see a great blues show. We were in it for BB King and Bobby Bland, who didn't disappoint. The date was December 26, and the Arena Theater held about 5000.

But opening the bill was this trio, fronted by pianist/vocalist Charles Brown. I'd never heard of him, though I knew of two songs he'd had big hits with way back, "Merry Christmas Baby" and "Please Come Home for Christmas." It was a cold night, and we were two mildly bewildered young white guys in an otherwise black audience, settling in, ready to see a good show. I was out of school, directionless, split from my high school sweetheart... about the only thing I really knew at that point was that I loved the blues.

This guy Charles Brown was so smooth, knocking out his Christmas hits as well as an excellent, joyful set of cocktail blues, replete with his nimble piano and loping vocals. We were completely floored.

He'd just come back to the music biz after decades away. This was a man who influenced Nat King Cole and Ray Charles. I mail-ordered his One More for the Road cassette from some tiny label, and it was really good.

***

Tully and I lost touch. Sadly, he was one of a few guys in my life I chose to separate myself from. He wasn't a bad guy. He was no worse than I was. But together we were trouble. We partied too much, way too much. Shortly after we went our separate ways he had a party at his house, and a drunken stranger with a gin bottle smashed it across his face for no reason. Lots and lots of stitches. Tully looked a mess, and when he said his face was "ruined" I couldn't disagree. Last I heard he was working on a barge on the Mississippi River. No kidding.

***

December 31 of 1986 was the last time I ever smoked grass.

***

I'm due a paycheck any day now from some audio work I did this fall. I have to resist the urge to go out and really load up on toys for my son. He's already got quite a few gifts under the tree, but heck, I remember those Christmas mornings with so many toys very fondly.

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Christmas of 2001 Kelli and I both got a bad stomach bug. THEBOY was a year old, crawling around the house as she and I lay on the floor, taking turns stumbling to the back bathroom to be violently ill. Our worst spells were spaced just far enough apart that when one of us was being sick the other could summon the strength to get up and feed the boy or change a diaper. That was a rough one.

***

More Charles Brown. We were in Seattle in '98 or so, having a nice little vacation. Great town for sure. Good scenery, great smells, interesting things to do. And the papers said Charles Brown was playing locally. We looked up the venue address and it appeared to be close. I called the club, and the machine said there would be an early show and a late show. We opted for the early one and started walking.

The club wasn't close at all. I'd injured my knee jogging recently, and it hurt as we walked way too far to get there. We were grouchy when we arrived at the front door, and that's when we learned that there was no early show at all. So there we were with two hours to kill in the cold, with very little in the way of local options. Mostly there were warehouses and such around there, and we weren't up to walking off to find entertainment. A hotel around the corner had a coffee shop that was closing, but they took mercy on us and let us sit there for most of the two hours.

At show time we returned and got our tickets. The usher seated us at a table, placing Kelli with her back to the stage. That elicited some harsh words, and he quickly saw the error of his ways. We both faced the stage, tired, stewing.

The lights went down, and what we saw wasn't encouraging. Brown was feeble, being led by the hand to the stage. He'd aged a lot since I'd first seen him, and it didn't give me great confidence in the kind of performance he could deliver.

He sat gingerly at the keyboard, all smiles, and began to play. And in moments the magic began to work. His hands had lost nothing, and he and the band played a soothing, smiling set of songs I loved. Bandleader/guitarist Danny Caron was brilliant, and he beamed like he had the greatest gig in the world. Every moment of anger, frustration and disappointment quickly evaporated as the band cast their spell.

Brown died January of '99.

***

Still sore from Sunday at Jade Mountain. Feels good though. I think I'm finally going to get my butt into some judo classes.

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THEGIRL is not feeling well, just congested as heck. She wakes up crying, and I imagine she may have some pain too. She's seeing the doctor right now. Winter... who likes this stuff?

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Have a good week, ya'll.