#listenup ‘The T.A.M.I. Show’: A Groundbreaking ’60s Concert • NPR (7:32) Milo Miles Knows His Shit

The great Milo Miles ✯ 'The T.A.M.I. Show': A Groundbreaking '60s ConcertStarts about dad’s Electronovision. Wrong on stating dad lost the rights almost immediately. Or at least half wrong. He kept he audio rights. But really amazing review. Milo Miles knows his stuff.

I’ll come back and embed the audio, but I don’t want to forget this so until then, follow the link.

How do you live honestly without telling this? Without anyone alive who knows it already. No shared reality.

Uncle Paul.

What does he know?

Package tours in the early years of rock and soul were varied grab bags. But none were like The T.A.M.I. Show. Filmed in October 1964 in Santa Monica, the lineup included performers who weren’t stars yet — like The Rolling Stones — and those at the peak of their fame, like Lesley Gore and Jan and Dean. Critic Milo Miles reviews the concert, just released on DVD.
— Read on www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php

Do you see it?

DO YOU SEE IT?

LOOK CLOSER

it’s been there all along

1390417570241-copy

I’ve been there all

along

all you have to do

is

SEE

 

 

TAMI: the fucking Stones, dude

My daddy can whoop your daddy and my daddy dead. My daddy done been dead.

It gots to be some kind of good luck to be named after anything with this shit in it:

My daddy did rock.

But I’m ’bout to rock harder.

Hide and watch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Swallowing Pictures

grosvenor

“Deeper” was a word my mom used a lot. Not “more deeply,” but “deeper.”

“Remember deeper.” “Question deeper.” “Think deeper.” And always, always: “Love deeper.”

Mother was big on impressing upon my memory just who was the boss. She felt that the memories of most people were not utilized as well as they could be. She said that the memory was like a dog, and wanted to be trained. In fact, often, when I asked her to take a picture of a beautiful rock formation or sunset or lake or geyser or whatever else it was I wanted to remember from our journeys together, she’d just say, “Take a mind picture.”

The first time I remember taking a mind picture was in Kodachrome Basin State Park, when we were living in Utah. I wanted her to get a shot of the Grosvenor Arch, with the sunset pouring through it like a waterfall, but she was out of film. She threw her arm around me and said, “You take a mind picture, and I’d better take one too. Yes, that’s right. This scene is just too beautiful not to be saved for posterity.”

So we stood, side by side, both awed by the beauty of the great rock formations and the once-in-a-lifetime sunset.

“Okay, my darling. Do you know what you want the picture of?”

“Yes.” With my eyes I tried to catch the colors of the over-heated rainbow flowing down through the Arches and onto me.

“Are you looking at your picture right now?”

“Yes.” I squinted my eyes.

“Do you see the colors?”

“Yes!”

“Can you see the frame?”

“Yes!”

“Do you see the picture exactly?”

“Yes, Mother, yes!”

“Good. Now concentrate with all your might. Remember every ridge. Memorize every detail. Replicate every hue in your imagination. You got it?”

“Yes! I see it!”

“Good. Then get ready to swallow it. We’re going to swallow our pictures, okay? You ready? 1, 2, 3. swallow… Now!”

I swallowed. Then giggled. She giggled too, but took two more Swallowing Pictures before she said, “You will remember this Arch forever, because you have impressed it into your mind, my darling Tami. You just took a picture that can never be destroyed, stolen, or lost. You just took a picture that you can take with you wherever you go, forever, and no one can ever take it away from you.”

It makes me wonder if she knew, somehow, how my life would turn out.

train-tracks-at-sunset-huge