January 16 – Thursday – The Mothers – Fillmore East – June 1971

Needless to say, this was a weird workout.

Once known as the Mothers of Invention, and led by the precocious Frank Zappa, this incarnation of the group included singers Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman of Turtles fame (remember “Happy Together”), who then became The Florescent Leech and Eddie, or Flo and Eddie. This is the white album with the writing in pencil.

Frank Zappa and the Mothers had a musically innovative sound and a need to shock that was right for the times. To me now, it’s more like a 4-year-old getting a kick out of saying doody – which isn’t always unfunny. To give you an idea – side one contains the song “What Kind of Girl Do You Think We Are?” a crude ballad about groupies, which goes right into, if you’ll pardon the phrase, “Bwana Dik.” Side two includes a continuation of “What Kind of Girl…” – the even cruder “Do You Like My New Car?” which goes into more graphic detail about the subject matter. However, that nicely leads into the Turtles’ hit “Happy Together.”

Wednesday was movie with the ex day. We saw American Hustle and give it two whole-hearted thumbs up. We had lunch before and were thinking of maybe ordering breakfast, “the usual,” but we were good, or at least I was, and went for something different and more green. I can be particular about my food, especially when it comes to breakfast. I want two eggs over easy, well-done home fries (or hash browns, whichever it comes with), crispy bacon and buttered rye toast. The ex would just order the two eggs over easy and take whatever comes however it comes, until one time after I ordered he said he’d have the same. Upon realizing how much better it was the way I order, I now place my order, with the waitperson writing furiously, and he says he’ll have the same, which thankfully always gets a chuckle. That made me think of the Gold Star Diner I left behind in Bayside, Queens, which I learned recently, is no longer there. I lived there for so many years and would go into the diner so often that the waitresses would just say “the usual?” And usually I’d say sure. “Coffee?” “Of course.” Before long, they stopped asking about the coffee and just brought it. The bus boy, who was the bus man and more by the time I left, was a quiet, shy guy. I would say good morning to him, or afternoon, but never got a response. But I was not deterred, and eventually got him to acknowledge me and even make a little conversation. It got so that if he saw me coming, he would try to have a cup of coffee on my table before my butt hit the seat. I got so much writing done in that noisy little diner, and I don’t have any place like that here.

I was thinking about just that this morning as I walked to work, and how much I missed it, when I heard someone say my name. It took me a few seconds to realize it, but when I turned around, a woman was standing a few feet away smiling at me. I knew the face but couldn’t place it. She said her name, which didn’t click until she said, “I was your neighbor in Bayside.” We exchanged pleasantries, as it was indeed pleasant, and went on our ways. Funny how things just happen like that.

So, I should be writing about Frank Zappa and the Mothers instead of eggs and Bayside, but not to worry, we’ll have another chance next time.