From the album “Was (Not Was)” (1981)

Written by David Was and Don Was

Cantonese version: 杜德偉 - 只想留下

I spend my nights down on the wharf
In unlit alleyways
By the church downtown
Where sally prays
Come down sometime
We’ll share a rusty can of corn..
And listen to the radio
I love you, I love you, it says..

Where did your heart go
Did you put it on a train
Did you leave it in the rain
Or down in mexico

You cry, but I don’t know
I’ve heard it all before
There it goes again, the slamming of the door
Sometimes the river calls me
And at night it calls my name
Says “put your troubles down beside me”
Things have always been the same..
And rock ‘n’ roll won’t teach me
What the river said that night
I jumped into this beauty
And drifted out of sight..

Gino Soccio ist ein kanadischer Disco-Produzent dem in den späten 70ern bis frühen 80ern einige erfolgreiche Produktionen gelungen sind, wie etwa diese hier aus dem Jahr 1981.

09. årgang

Hvornår siver det ind?

Landbrugsrådet inviterede Folketinget på ekskursion, og hvad fortalte man Folketingets medlemmer? Man fortalte, at hvis landbruget skal fortsætte med at producere varer, der omsættes til indtægter til det danske samfund, så må omkostningsniveauet sættes ned. Kort og godt, renteniveauet, bruttoprisen på arbejdskraft og de af skatter og afgifter oppustede udgifter, må og skal nedad. Hvem har sagt dette i årevis? Det har såmænd Fremskridtspartiet.

Metal talte noget om det på sin konference, men samtidig foreslog man en forhøjelse af erhvervslivets omkostningsniveau via ren reduktion ar arbejdsugens længde med 5 timer. Hvornår trænger det ind, at arbejde skaber arbejde, og at arbejde er det samme som vareproduktion, og at den eneste indtægtskilde et samfund har, er konkurrencedygtig vareproduktion. Hvornår trænger det ind, at ledighed skaber ledighed, og at ledighed blandt samfundets borgere betyder ressourcespild og fattiggørelse af samfundet?

Hvor længe endnu skal vi vente, inden Venstre og Konservative svarer på de spørgsmål, vi har stillet til de 2 partier om, hvad de vil? Hvor længe endnu vil det vare, inden et flertal i befolkningen indser, at hvis ikke man vil samarbejde med Fremskridtspartiet om den nødvendige politik, så må stemmerne flyttes over på liste Z. Kommunalvalget i november bør bruges til at give de “gamle” en forskrækkelse, så den rigtige politik får lettere ved at sive ind.

Há canções que ficam para sempre associadas a um grupo. Hoje trago-vos a marca do Journey no mundo da música.

Gosto muito desta música, como muitas outras desta década. Se há algo nesta canção que a torna especial é certamente aquele intro de piano…

Don’t Stop Believing - Journey
Escape [1981]

These memories from 1981 are bought to you by my old Hackbarth Insurance desk calendars that I found a short while ago in a junk drawer.

Here we are in October. Among the items I chose to mark down on my calendar that month were a couple of dates that a Milwaukee-based band called The Shivvers played in Madison, Wis., while I was attending the University of Wisconsin-Madison. My roommate, Paul II, was a big fan of this band, partially because the lead singer was cute and reminded him of Wendy Wu of the British band, The Photos. I’m not sure where he saw them first. But he introduced me to the world of groupiedom.

This band was a power-pop band consisting of a drummer, rhythm guitarist, lead guitarist, bass player and singer/keyboardist. They had some really good songs and were fun to see. Paul II also convinced me that you had to dance to every single song whether anybody else was dancing or not. So, I did … as weird and as self-conscious as I felt at times — I still did. I’m sure people thought we were weird or light in the loafers or something. Most of the time, a bunch of people, females included, joined right in.

We went to see this band every time they were in Madison. And sometimes when they were in Milwaukee on the weekend, we’d go back home to Milwaukee and see them. I procured the “official” Shivvers T-shirt, getting a yellow shirt with black lettering that said “I’ve got the Shivvers.” The “Shivvers” lettering was kind of jumbled as it was meant to evoke a feeling of shivering. Band members started calling us the Bees because of our yellow-and-black wardrobe.

My first real actual date was at a Shivvers show at Headliners in Madison. It was kind of a blind date with a girl I’d met on the phone while I was helping conduct a trivia contest on the student radio station.

We managed to get the band named the top local band in the Milwaukee Journal. My roommate and I and our friends all got the coupons out of the Green Sheet and mailed them in, citing our favorite radio stations, national bands and the like. There was this old guy at one of their shows that winter who kept telling us we’d better make sure all our friends voted for them. So, I made sure everyone put down The Shivvers for their favorite local band. There may have even been a couple I filled out for friends whose musical tastes I was very aware of, and who, given a heart-wrenching speech by me, definitely would have succumbed to my wishes and put The Shivvers down as their favorite local artist. Years later, I found out The Shivvers had been accused of stuffing the ballot box. They had nothing to do with it.

I have to admit that I became somewhat smitten by the lead singer, too, wrote her a letter at Christmastime, asking her if I’d managed to correctly decipher the lyrics of the single they had out on the market, and ended up allowing her to view many of the lyrics I’d penned to that point (most were horrible).

They band has some videos on YouTube, and there is even a Shivvers channel. Here it is: http://www.youtube.com/user/TheShivvers

The two videos on that channel were taped at a Madison TV station for a show on an extremely cold night on Jan. 9, 1982. My friends and I were supposed to go. But my dad wouldn’t let me use his car because it was so incredibly cold. He said that if the car wouldn’t start or we slid off the road, there might be nobody around to help us and we might freeze to death. So, we didn’t go.

The Shivvers eventually moved to Boston, but never got going out there as the lead singer got sick for quite a while.

Also, in that October 1981 calendar I have, I’ve got our vaunted Badger football team beating both Purdue and Ohio State at home to complete a sweep of the three teams that annual held down the top spots in the Big Ten in those days. The Badgers had been very mediocre for a number of years, then all of a sudden ripped off this great streak. They lost at Michigan State and Illinois before coming home to spank Northwestern on Halloween.

Halloween in Madison was a bizarre deal back then. I mean really bizarre. You’ve got a bunch of college kids, the drinking age was 18, you’re in a state that practically encourages drinking at every turn and you’ve got free music and cheap beer available everywhere. Plus, people dress up in costumes. It’s a recipe for disaster, and it often was. By the time I got there, the city has taken to greasing the light poles and electrical poles on State Street, a street where no traffic was allowed except for buses and bikes that ran from the state capital building to the campus.

Anyway, the Badgers finished off a pretty good season in November and went on to play Tennessee in the Garden State Bowl, losing to an unbelievably fast Volunteer squad.

That December, the Green Bay Packers lost to the New York Jets in their final-regular season game of the year, costing them a berth in the playoffs. A win there and they go. But they messed up and the end and missed a long field goal. That seemed to be the team’s modus operandi often during that stretch. Get very close to making the playoffs only to blow it in the last game.

The last week of December, Marquette University always hosted the Milwaukee Classic, a men’s college basketball tournament. There would be two first-round games one night, followed by a third-place game and championship game the next night. My friend, Pat, had an extra ticket for me this time, so I attended both games. Marquette beat Arizona State for the championship that year, and Pat and I got all the Marquette players’ autographs. That included Glenn “Doc” Rivers, who is now the coach of the NBA champions Boston Celtics. It also included Terrell Schlundt, who grew up in Antigo, Wis., my mom’s hometown. One of the dumbest things I’ve ever said I said to Terrell Schlundt during that tournament. When I got his autograph, I mentioned my cousins who lived in Antigo, and he knew who they were. So we chatted briefly about Antigo. Then, when I said thanks, I said, “Win one for me, Terrell.” Man, that was soooooo stupid! I didn’t really mean for it to come out like that. Pat teased me about it for months, adding in a whiny, schoolboy voice that I swear was not in the original line.

Oh well. We also got the autograph of the guy who hit the winning shot in the third-place game of the tournament. I’m going to have to look this one up as I can’t recall the team he played for .. his name was something like Pierre Jeanvier.

Oh shoot. I just found the program from the Milwaukee Classic I had been thinking of. It was actually contested in 1980. Marquette beat Arizona State in 1981. But the Pierre Janvier winning basket came in the third-place game in 1981 as Cal. State-Bakersfield beat Illinois State. We were sitting close, and got the guy’s autograph as he ran off the court. Marquette played Clemson in the championship. That Clemson squad featured Larry Nance, who went on to some NBA success.

Eine schöne russische Scheibe von Владимир Высоцкий (deutsch: Wladimir Semjonowitsch Wyssozki) aus dem rätselhaften Sortiment (1981) der sowjetischen Plattenfirma Melodija (russisch: Мелодия).

Durch die Abnutzungserscheinungen hat Wyssozki auf dem Portraitfoto einen kleinen Heiligenschein bekommen. Was soll man sagen, für viele ist er die Erscheinung am sonst trostlosen Himmel der damaligen modernen Russischen Kultur.

Дом Хрустальный (Марине)

Если я богат, как царь морской,
Крикни только мне: «Лови блесну!» -
Мир подводный и надводный свой,
Не задумываясь, выплесну!

Дом хрустальный на горе для нее.
Сам, как пес бы, так и рос в цепи.
Родники мои серебрянные,
Золотые мои россыпи!

Если беден я, как пес, один,
И в дому моем шаром кати -
Ведь поможешь ты мне, господи!
Не позволишь жизнь скомкати…

Дом хрустальный на горе для нее.
Сам, как пес бы, так и рос в цепи.
Родники мои серебрянные,
Золотые мои россыпи!

Не сравнил бы я любую с тобой,
Хоть казни меня, расстреливай.
Посмотри, как я любуюсь тобой, -
Как Мадонной Рафаэлевой!

Дом хрустальный на горе для нее.
Сам, как пес бы, так и рос в цепи.
Родники мои серебрянные,
Золотые мои россыпи!

1967

The crystal house

If King Neptune’s wealth belonged to me,
“Catch the bait” is all you’d need to shout.
My realms under and above the sea -
I’d not hesitate to bail them out.

She would have a crystal house on a hill;
I’d be bound just like a chain-bred hound.
She’d have silver that from my rivers spills,
Gold that fills my rills and sacred ground!

If I were poor as a lonely dog
And my home had nothing there but need,
I would call on you to help me, God -
Don’t allow my life to go to seed!

She would have a crystal house on a hill;
I’d be bound just like a chain-bred hound.
She’d have silver that from my rivers spills,
Gold that fills my rills and sacred ground!

There’s no woman quite like you for me.
Execute me, shoot me, give me hell -
See, I gaze on you adoringly
Like on Madonna by Raphael.

She would have a crystal house on a hill;
I’d be bound just like a chain-bred hound.
She’d have silver that from my rivers spills,
Gold that fills my rills and sacred ground!

Quelle: Margaret & Stas Porokhnya (2008)

Еще не вечер

Четыре года рыскал в море наш корсар,
В боях и штормах не поблекло наше знамя.
Мы научились штопать паруса,
И затыкать пробоины телами.

За нами гонится эскадра по пятам.
На море штиль и не избегнуть встречи.
Но нам сказал спокойно капитан:
- Еще не вечер, еще не вечер!

Вот развернулся боком флагманский фрегат,
И левый борт окрасился дымами.
Ответный залп - на глаз и наугад.
Вдали пожар и смерть. Удача с нами!

Из худших выбирались передряг,
Но с ветром худо, и в трюме течи,
А капитан нам шлет привычный знак:
- Еще не вечер, еще не вечер!

На нас глядят в бинокли, в трубы сотни глаз
И видят нас от дыма злых и серых,
Но никогда им не увидеть нас
Прикованными к веслам на галерах!

Неравный бой. Корабль кренится наш.
Спасите наши души человечьи!
Но крикнул капитан: - На абордаж!
Еще не вечер! Еще не вечер!

Кто хочет жить, кто весел, кто не тля -
Готовьте ваши руки к рукопашной!
А крысы пусть уходят с корабля -
Они мешают схватке бесшабашной!

И крысы думали: «А чем не шутит черт?!»
И тупо прыгали, спасаясь от картечи.
А мы с фрегатом становились к борту борт.
Еще не вечер, еще не вечер!

Лицо в лицо, ножи в ножи, глаза в глаза!
Чтоб не достаться спрутам или крабам,
Кто с кольтом, кто с кинжалом, кто в слезах, -
Мы покидали тонущий корабль.

Но нет! Им не послать его на дно -
Поможет океан, взвалив на плечи.
Ведь океан-то с нами заодно,
И прав был капитан - еще не вечер!

1968

It’s not yet evening

For four long years we sailed the high seas in our ship
And neither storms nor battles dulled our colours.
We learnt to mend the sails that bullets ripped;
We’d press our bodies on our craft to plug her.

Once a flotilla started chasing after us;
The sea was calm, we couldn’t dodge that meeting.
But then our captain told us without fuss:
“It’s not yet evening, it’s not yet evening!”

Their flagship drew up sideways on, its port side ringed
With coloured smoke while blindly, without aiming,
We shot back salvos - and our luck was in!
We killed our foes and left their vessel flaming.

We had escaped from tighter corners in our time,
But still an ill wind blew; our hold was leaking.
And then our captain gave his usual sign:
“It’s not yet evening, it’s not yet evening.”

Through big binoculars a hundred eyes were trained;
Through telescopes they saw us mad and blackened -
But rest assured they’ll never see us chained
And manning galley oars in servile fashion!

Our ship was listing as they fired from front and back;
“God save our human souls,” we started pleading.
But then our captain yelled: “Boarding attack!
It’s not yet evening! It’s not yet evening!”

If you’ve got heart, you want to live and you’re no drip
Prepare your hands to be your deadly weapon!
And let the rats desert the sinking ship -
In combat we don’t need them here to step on.

The rats all thought: “Many a true word’s said in jest.”
As case-shot flew they dumbly started leaving.
We neared the frigate till we sat abreast.
It’s not yet evening, it’s not yet evening!

We fought them eye to eye, blades clashing, ear to ear!
Not to be fed to tentacles and nippers
Some waving guns and daggers, some in tears,
We left for good and all our sinking clipper.

But they’ll not send it to the bottom in the end -
The sea will stop our vessel from receding
Because the sea’s our ever-loyal friend
And like our captain said - it’s not yet evening!

Quelle: Margaret & Stas Porokhnya (2008)

Titel:

1. Владимир Высоцкий: Як-Истреъитель
2. Владимир Высоцкий: Дом Хрустальный
3. Владимир Высоцкий: Надежда
4. Владимир Высоцкий: Еще не вечер

Ganzsache LURABA ’81

Gelaufen am 07.September 1981 von Kiev nach Eisenhüttenstadt. Ausgabe der Sowjetunion zur Aerophilatelie Ausstellung LUBARA in Luzern, die vom 20.-29. März 1981 im dortigen Verkehrshaus der Schweiz stattfand. Nennwert: 32 Kopeken.

Here comes some more of 1981:

I’ve got a couple paydays marked down in August 1981, the month of my 18th birthday, and the summer after high school graduation. On Aug. 13, I got a check from the Lutheran Home for the Aging in beautiful Wauwatosa, Wis., for $276.15. Two weeks later, I got a check for $253. That was big bucks back then and I was putting in basically full-time hours over the summer. But alas, my time at the home was to end soon.

I worked some after that, over school breaks. But that was the last fulltime gig with all the characters there. There would be no more old Jamaican guy who got angry all the time because a woman was his boss. He kept saying that in Jamaica, “the man is the king and the woman is the queen. The woman does not tell the man what to do.”

Soon, there would be no Mexican woman boss type person for him to get angry with. There would be no more hanging out with the young, white dude with the bushy hair and mustache who let me friend and I drive his turbo Trans Am to McDonald’s once to get for lunch. And the young black guy who had attended Alcorn State University for a time and took the bus out to the suburbs from the inner city. Of course, anything in the city was considered inner city by us suburban boys. There was also the black guy who sort of kind of wanted to get fired, so he didn’t do much. He wanted to leave and become a member of the CIA. I wonder whatever became of him.

The residents were interesting, too. We had one guy we called “Beh” because that’s all he ever said. I guess he couldn’t talk, and that’s the only sound that came out of his mouth. You could sort of tell what he meant by the tone of the “beh.”

There was another guy who used to make stuff with wood in the maintenance department workshop until they decided they weren’t going to allowed residents back there anymore. Seems they thought someone might hurt themselves.

Then there was the guy who sat in his wheelchair in his robe and slippers half the time, with a corncob pipe sitting in his mouth, telling us about how he got a sexually transmittable disease in World War I.

And another guy used to come up to us while we were cleaning windows or something and tell us a better way to do it. It usually had to do with old newspaper. He also like to play number games. He’d ask you to pick a number and he’d have you perform some sort of mathematical computations with it. Then he’d guess your answer.

On Aug. 23, I made my way to college … the University of Wisconsin - Madison. THE big UW. Bucky Badger and everything. 40,000-some undergraduates. Big Ten football. Dorm life. Roommates. People staying up late. Drinking (not for me, though … not at that point in time anyway). Navy ROTC (for one semester anyway).

My first semester in college was quite a unique experience for me. There was a lot of freedom, which apparently, I was not very good at handling at the time. I put things off until later. I didn’t always show up for class, especially for anything earlier than 9:50 a.m. I did, however, make it to almost every home football game as I got season tickets. It was a good year to see Badger football as they upset Michigan in the season opener and ended up going to their first bowl game in eons. So it was a trip to East Rutherford, N.J., for the Garden State Bowl … it was a bowl game!

I joined Navy ROTC when I went off to college. I didn’t get a scholarship, just signed up. Dad told me it would be a good way to get college paid for. If you did it for a year successfully, they’d probably give you a scholarship the the rest of the way, then you’d owe the Navy three years as an officer. If you signed up before you got there and they gave you a four-year scholarship, then you owed them four years afterward. That’s how I remember it.

I enjoyed ROTC. Among the highlights were early morning runs around Camp Randall Stadium while chanting in cadence, marching with rifles and wearing the uniform. I remember running the three miles in the physical fitness test, and also having guys yell to encourage you as you struggled to make just one more chin-up. And those shoulder boards were so cool. I even had a small kid come up to me once in Madison and salute me and say “hi, sir.” That was wacky. Here I was, some 18-year-old snot-nosed little punk, and a small child salutes me.

But, after a semester, I decided that I didn’t really want to spend three years of my life on a ship. As it was, I was fairly directionless at that time, and started making decisions … some good, some bad. But I needed a direction.

There was a guy who became a friend of mine through ROTC and Russian class. After I dropped Russian and ROTC, I didn’t see him for a good 25 years. Through the power of the Internet, I tracked him down and found out he was living within about 90 minutes of me. He’d stayed in the Navy for 20-some years, spent time in San Diego and Greenland, among other places, and retired from the military. We got together and had plenty to talk about.

My college roommate and I were quite a pair. We had the same first name, so we decided to name ourselves Paul I and Paul II. I was Paul I because Paul II decided that he could never be first at anything. So, with his poor self-image driving the name game, I became Paul I on the eighth floor of Sellery Hall Tower A. It was a fine floor … Nardin House. There was a girl there whose birthday was exactly one year before mine, and I quickly developed a crush on her. But alas, she was way more mature than I in the ways of romance. I was a bumbling fool.

He was into punk rock and new wave. I was a Doors, Beatles, Police and Cars fan who enjoyed giving new music a try. So I got sucked right into the power pop/new wave/punk scene. One day, we went to lunch together, he in his yellow Devo radiation suit and me in my Navy uniform. What an interesting sight that must have been.

Our favorite activities were going to see bands, playing basketball at the old rec center and collecting Old West buildings from boxes of Waffelos cereal.

One of the first bands I saw when I moved to Madison for school was a Doors cover band called Riders on the Storm. Paul II had already turned in some concert reviews for a local music magazine called The Mirror. That sounded like fun. After I got to the gig, I thought it would be neat if I could do that, too. So, somehow I managed to get ahold of the keyboard player and interviewed him at the bar between sets, writing my notes on napkins. I hadn’t planned on even talking to anyone, so I didn’t exactly go there prepared. It was a nice chat, the band was pretty good and I planned to try to write a review in the next day or so. But I was lacking for confidence, didn’t think I could write something good enough for publication, and never wrote it. Some start to a career in journalism, huh?

Well, I am running out of gas. And I’ve just got two months of calendar on this one. I am getting so more vociferous here. I guess there’s a lot more to say about 1981. So I will bid adieu to you for now, my gaggle of fans and be back another day with more from this momentous year.

Change war ein Studio-Projekt italienischer Produzenten, die mit US Musikern und Sängern zusammenarbeiteten. Sie orientierten sich dabei deutlich hörbar am Sound von Chic, weswegen sie von einigen Kritikern als “poor man’s Chic” verspottet wurden.

(1906-1981) Poeta y publicista, participó activamente en la oposición intelectual a la línea ortodoxa del Partido Comunista. En 1956 fue elegido miembro de la ejecutiva de la Alianza de los Escritores Húngaros. Un año después de la insurrección del otoño de 1956 fue procesado y condenado a tres años de cárcel, aunque en 1958 fue puesto en libertad.

¶

¶

‘Brain’ is the third Musicophilia-posted mix from the ‘1981′ box set, and pretty much the precise inverse of the poppy, breezy, songwriter-oriented sound and feeling of the last mix posted, ‘Convertible‘. And I’d concede it’s probably a little less accessible than the first mix posted, the beat-oriented ‘Feet‘ mix. These tracks are the mutant sons and daughters of musique concrete; late 60s/early 70s weirdos like the Residents, White Noise, Bruce Haack; Germans like Cluster and Faust. This stuff is often aggressive, frequently dark, a combination of the visceral and the experimental. That said, there’s a distinct sense of humor running through it all, even if the humor is a little black, and the music manages to be pretty catchy, too. If you’re at all post-punk-curious, this is essential territory.

¶

Featured names include Germans Klaus Nomi, Trio, Einstruzende Neubauten; Brits like Matt Johnson (of The The, presaging Disco Inferno), Fire Engines, Flying Lizards, and the Birthday Party; No Wave elites DNA and Glenn Branca; post-Henry Cow RIOers Art Bears, Homosexuals and This Heat; agit-prop Crass and The Ex; and essential American art-pranksters like Chrome, The Residents, Negativland, and Pere Ubu. It might have made more sense to post this one on Halloween, and the closer-to-celebratory ‘Convertible’ mix after the recent good news here in America. But this is a good one for those flashbacks to the creeping paranoia and anger of the last eight years—this is the sound of smiling through it all, with panache and wit. For more information about the whole ‘1981′ series, read more here. Full tracklist and download link after the “more…”.

¶

1 9 8 1 | Brain

01 Art Bears - Truth [2:55]
02 The Birthday Party - Cry [2:41]
03 Glenn Branca - Structure [3:04]
04 Klaus Nomi - The Twist [3:06]
05 Ex, The - Weapons for El Salvador [2:43]
06 Flying Lizards - Hands 2 Take [4:06]
07 Negativland - Dearmary [1:49]
08 New Age Steppers - Crazy Dreams & High Ideas [2:58]
09 Lemon Kittens - Kites [3:29]
10 Trio - Kummer [2:40]
11 Pere Ubu - Lonesome Cowboy Dave [1:52]
12 The Residents - Would We Be Alive [3:20]
13 Matt Johnson - The River Flows East In Spring [1:33]
14 Eyeless in Gaza - The Decoration [2:45]
15 Einstürzende Neubauten - Abstieg & Zerfall [4:28]
16 Fire Engines - Candyskin [2:54]
17 Section 25 - Hit [2:50]
18 Crass - Bata Motel [3:28]
19 Liaisons Dangereuses - Aperitif De La Mort [1:37]
20 Crash Course in Science - Factory Forehead [3:00]
21 Foetus - Thank Heaven for Push Button Phones [4:26]
22 Cabaret Voltaire - A Touch Of Evil [1:52]
23 Chrome - Planet Strike [2:25]
24 DNA - Blonde Red Head [1:52]
25 Clock DVA - 4 Hours [3:52]
26 Homosexuals - Nursery Chymes [2:40]
27 Wim Mertins - Multiple 12 [1:00]
28 This Heat - Makeshift Swahili [3:54]

[Total Time: 79:20]

¶

Download Here

Player: Harold Baines

Set: 1981 Fleer and Topps

Card Number: 346 and 347 respectively

Why is These Cards are Must Have?: This one is going to be a strange one.  As far as entry into the Hall of Fame goes, there are either people who think he absolutely deserves it, and another side that thinks there is no room for career designated hitters.  Here are the facts, he played for 22 seasons, had 2866 hits and 348 home runs.  If he wasn’t a designated hitter, I think he would get in.  So now you have to weigh the designated hitter factor.  For me, stats say it all,if your stats say you deserve entry, then you deserve it.  To me his 2866 hits (40th all time),is enough to get him in.  I know Steve from White Sox Cards feel the same way.  Either way, he is one of the better players of the 80s and early 90s.  He deserves to be in your collection regardless of how you feel towards designated hitters.

On a Scale of 1 to 10, How Must Have Is This Card?: A 5 for either card, come on folks, he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame, I know if he will ever get there. You find find either one of these cards on eBay for no more than a dollar.

[España] Joan Baptista Humet (1981) - Clara

Clara, distinta Clara

extraña entre su gente, mirada ausente.

Clara a la deriva,

no tuvo suerte al elegir la puerta de salida.

Clara, abandonada,

en brazos de otra soledad…

esperando hacer amigos por la nieve

al abrigo de otra lucidez

Descubriendo mundos donde nunca llueve,

escapando una y otra vez,

achicando penas para navegar…

Estrellas negras vieron por sus venas

y nadie quiso preguntar.

Clara, se vio atrapada,

abandonó el trabajo,

se vino abajo,

Clara, languidecía,

perdida en un camino de ansiedades y ambrosías.

Clara, no dijo nada

y un día desapareció…

Recorriendo aceras dicen que la vieron

ajustando el paso a los demás

intentando cualquier cosa por dinero,

para incarse fuego una vez más.

Esa madrugada

Clara naufragó.

tenía el mar del miedo en la mirada,

las ropas empapadas

y el suelo por almohada…

y lentamente amaneció…

Player: Fernando Valenzuela

Set: 1981 Topps and Fleer

Card Number: 302 and 140 respectively

Why is These Cards are Must Have?: For those of you lucky enough to have been following baseball in 1981, you got to witness something special.  Fernandomania was happening in 1981, everyone was glued to the TV for each and every one of his starts.  He was a pudgy 19 year old rookie with this very strange delivery, but man could he throw gas!  In his first 7 starts, he had 5 complete game shutouts.  He went 13-7/2.48/1.05 that season, propelled the Dodgers to the playoffs and was key in them winning a World Series.  The most special event came in the post season awards where he was awarded not only the Rookie of the Year award, but also the Cy Young award.  This was a first in baseball history.  Fernando never achieved the same level of success as that first season, but he did have a very successful first 6 years of his career.  As with many fireballers, he had his share of injuries, but as of today he still pitches (he is now 47).  Fernando was also involved in another oddity as both he and Dave Stewart threw no hitters on June 29, 1990, the first time in baseball history.  He still pitches today in the Winter Mexican Leagues along with his son Fernando Jr.

On a Scale of 1 to 10, How Must Have Is This Card?: A 5 for either card, It’s along the same lines as Mark Fidrych.  He is an amazing pitcher and if only for baseball history you should own this card. The rating is mainly because of his place in baseball history.  You find find either one of these cards on eBay for no more than a dollar.

Prototypischer Techno-Track aus dem Jahre 1981.

Witam serdecznie w progach mego bloga.

Pamiętacie ?

Przede wszystkim chciałbym wyjaśnić po co powstał ten BLOG,czemu mają służyć publikowane tutaj materiały. Tak,jak wielu z nas,ludzi po 50 - tce,pamięta okres wydarzeń poprzedzający zamach na naszą wolność osobistą,zamach na Naród polski. U nie jednej osoby,znajdują się dokumenty,bibuły,biuletyny z drugiego obiegu.Drukowane nocą,a rankiem pojawiające się w rękach robotników.Ludzi tak bardzo skrzywdzonych przez KOMUNISTYCZNĄ JUNTĘ POD DOWÓDZTWEM ZBRODNIARZA W CIEMNYCH OKULARACH.

Blog, powstał też z myślą o ludziach młodych,także tych durnowatych, piszących na portalach,takich jak np. Onet.pl .

Ludziach nie mających zielonego pojęcia,jak trudno było ich rodzicom zdobyć kawałek chleba,wędliny czy sera.Nie wiedzących co oznaczały wtedy gołe półki sklepowe z przysłowiowym octem.Nie mówiąc o papierosach czy alkoholu…tu milczę.Pamiętam te cholernie długie kolejki za gorzałą,jedna flaszka na łebka za 500,-zł.Jeżeli się mylę,proszę mnie poprawić…widać pamięć już nie ta.

Ale,do czego zmierzam,jak mawia moja pewna znajoma,po godzinnym zbliżaniu się do sedna wątku ?
Jestem dumnym Polakiem,obywatelem RP,który widział i “czuł” klimat TAMTYCH dni,dni PRZED i w STANIE WOJENNYM,wojny polsko - jaruzelskiej.
Z tamtych lat pozostało mi kilkadziesiąt dokumentów w postaci ulotek,gazetek tzw.bibuł i Biuletynów, w tym wypadku z Regionu Łódzkiego oraz wiele filmów,negatywów w formacie 6×9 mm (ówczesny standard ),z różnych rodzaju wydarzeń,min. Marsz Głodujących Matek,wręczenie sztandaru,co było naprawdę wydarzeniem w tamtym czasie,naszej lokalnej “Solidarności” lub symboliczne odsłonięcie kamienia z tablicą upamiętniającą śmierć Grzegorza Przemyka.Tym ostatnim szybko SB się zajęła..

Aby otrzymać taką gazetkę,biuletyn,przynajmniej tak było w mojej fabryce,trzeba byo wcześniej u człowieka z Zarządu Zakładowej “Solidarności” zapisać się,zapłacić ! tak,zapłacić 5. złotych i czekać aż dotrze do moich rąk.Trwało to nie dłużej niż tydzień.

Przeglądając zawartość internetu,rzadko można spotkać,wręcz wcale,fotokopie takich materiałów. Większość znajduje się w archiwach np.IPNu.

Zwykły uzytkownik internetu nie moze do nich dotrzeć !!!

NIE OBIECUJĘ TUTAJ WIELKIEJ PORCJI SKANÓW.

Proszę o tym pamiętać.Miałem tych dokumentów sporo,sporo też zniszczyłem pod wpływem emocji,zaś te,zwykłe Biuletyny Regionu Łódzkiego,też niekompletne,uratowały się wyłącznie dlatego,że ukryłem je w…no właśnie,gdzie ?

Nie było szans,aby je znależli
Nie zawierają też rewelacji,jedynie informacje drukowane “ku pokrzepieniu serc” i wiadomości,co się dzieje w Regionie. Nie mam zamiaru polemizować,może,gdyby ktoś zechciał ?…nt. zawartości,treści.To była nasz codzienność. Życie takie,jakie my,zwykli zjadacze czarnego wtedy chleba,bo rzucano taki na pólki ( dziś młodzież nie wie o tym !!! ) musieliśmy toczyć. Przepraszam za taki galimatias w moim pisaniu,ale nie mam do tego talentu,niestety
Zapraszam więc do zaglądania na mój Blog.
W następnym wpisie już skan całej Gazetki.| !!!

Liczę też na Państwa pomoc.

Z góry dziękuję za , być może , nadesłane materiały

Rysunek Tygodnik”solidarność” nr.7(44) 14 lipca 1989 r
——————————————————————————————

Destroyer by The Kinks

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¶

The second posted mix from the ‘1981′ box set, the ‘Convertible’ compilation showcases a side of the post-punk sound that usually gets the least attention: its poppy, melody-oriented, hummable, playful persona. Some of this gets lumped under “New Wave,” but for many that term connotes a synth-based sound that ascended later in the decade. The sounds on this mix in some ways reflect a more traditional, sometimes even pre-psychedelic, singer-songwriter-oriented “pre-punk” or “un -punk” approach to songwriting. Some of it foreshadows the late-80s rise of “indie rock” as an ‘antidote’ to excessive perceived synthetic-glam, but in 1981 there’s not much of the anti-artrockist twee feeling of 80s indie. This is simply catchy pop music, a continuation of a long tradition, with a feeling that is nevertheless uniquely informed by the heady musical freedom in the underground of the era.

¶

I put ‘Convertible’ together as further evidence that post-punk was fun, for those under the looming cultural shadow of Joy Division and the other dark-side mopers. The music found here isn’t nearly as “cool” as a lot of the other stuff on the ‘81 set, but it simply doesn’t need to be: it’s just right the way it is, simple, well-crafted, cleanly produced. As usual, there are big names (Costello, REM, Go-Go’s, TheRamones, Pretenders) and less so (Go Betweens, Pylon, The Suburbs, The Stranglers, and the Necessaries, featuring Arthur Russell, transitional Scritti Politti, pre -Everything But the Girl Marine Girls), but to my ears again the remarkable thing is the parity, the consistently high quality of the era’s broad zeitgeist, between those who received lots of attention at the time or went on to become mainstream acts, and those who never came close (or never wanted to). More information about the ‘1981′ box set in general (as well as the first mix in the series posted toMusicophilia) can be found here. Keep your eyes open for more mixes from the ‘1981′ set in upcoming weeks, including synthy goodness, weirdo careening, and the very height of 1981 “cool”. Full tracklist and download link after the “more…”.

¶

1 9 8 1 | Convertible

01 Young Marble Giants - Final Day (1981) [1:43]
02 Orange Juice - Poor Old Soul (1981) [2:29]
03 Martha & The Muffins - This Is the Ice Age (1981) [4:06]
04 Altered Images - Happy Birthday (1981) [3:01]
05 The Church- Too Fast For You (1981) [3:33]
06 Scritti Politti - The Sweetest Girl (1981) [4:09]
07 Romeo Void - Myself To Myself (1981) [3:46]
08 Barracudas - Don’t Let Go (1981) [3:28]
09 The dB’s- Black and White (1981) [3:09]
10 Go-Go’s - Our Lips Are Sealed (1981) [2:45]
11 Magazine - The Honeymoon Killers (1981) [3:39]
12 Suburbs - Spring Came (1981) [3:18]
13 Marine Girls - Tonight (1981) [1:22]
14 Pretenders - Message of Love (1981) [3:07]
15 Necessaries - More Real (1981) [2:48]
16 The Teardrop Explodes - Falling Down Around Me (1981) [3:08]
17 Squeeze - Is That Love (1981) [2:31]
18 The Go Betweens - Your Turn, My Turn (1981) [3:03]
19 Robyn Hitchcock - Love (1981) [4:34]
20 The Stranglers - Golden Brown (1981) [3:28]
21 The Ramones - It’s Not My Place (1981) [3:23]
22 XTC - Respectable Street (1981) [3:40]
23 Pylon - Crazy (1981) [3:13]
24 Elvis Costello - Strict Time (1981) [2:42]
25 REM - Radio Free Europe (1981) [3:49]

[Total Time: 79:50]

¶

Download Here

1981 Topps Fergie Jenkins

Yet another Fergie Jenkins card that I can add to my growing collection!!!  I am getting very close to owning all of Fergie’s cards from the 1980’s. 

This card design is fair.  In my opinion, if they had made the border either of the Rangers Blue or Red colors the card would work much better.  To me, the Green really detracts from the overall look of the design.

Ich weiß nicht, warum ich davon ausgegangen bin, dass es sich bei dieser Band um ein paar hippe, coole Jungs aus London handeln muss. Mindestens. Umso erstaunlicher war für mich, dass die Kerle aus good old Austria kommen, welches wahrlich a Country for old men ist! Aber nachdem ich die Jungs gegoogelt habe, muss ich feststellen: Tatsächlich! Die kommen aus Österreich! Dem Land, wo heute noch vorgestern ist. Wo man beim überqueren der Straße aufpassen muss, nicht von einer herannahenden Kutsche, die über das nächtliche Kopfsteinpflaster jagt, überfahren zu werden. Dem seligen Eiland, wo im Falle eines Weltuntergangs alle hierher flüchten würden, denn in Österreich passiert ja alles erst 50 Jahre später.

Mir jedenfalls gefällt, was ich da höre und deshalb gebe ich an dieser Stelle meinen ganz persönlichen Anspieltipp ab: “The Other Side” von 1981

Es tut mir leid, dass ich euch an dieser Stelle nicht mit einem hier eingepflanzten Youtube Video servicieren kann, bei dem ihr einfach nur noch auf “Play” drücken müsst. Meine Recherchen lieferten zwar Ergebnisse, aber die Qualität des raufgeladenen Videos war mehr als grottig, weil Wohnzimmeraufnahme. Deshalb kann ich euch nur bitten: nehmt diesen einen Klick mehr auf euch und folgt diesem Link:

The Other Side

Meine Güte, ich liebe liebe liebe Lieder von dieser Sorte. Ich appelliere an FM4 diesen Song bitte auf der nächsten Sound Selection zu integrieren!! Und ich appelliere an meinen Freundeskreis, oder zumindest dass, was davon noch übrig ist, sich diese CD dann zu kaufen und MIR zu schenken. Danke. Ihr wisst ja: Weihnachten steht schon fast vor der Tür.

Los ejecutivos/genios de mi querida MTV, conscientes de que la cadena, en la mayoría de sus filiales, ya apenas emite videos músicales (desde hace ya tiempo ha sido infestada por “realitys” de nefasta calidad) han decidido crear MTV Music , una enorme base de datos al estilo YouTube en la que se incluyen prácticamente todos los vídeos que la cadena ha emitido desde su concepción en 1981.

A diferencia de YouTube la calidad de los vídeos es muy buena y al buscar un vídeo por lo menos sabes que no vas a tener que tragarte mil grabaciones cutres de niños haciendo versiones de mierda delante de su web cam ya que sólo se incluyen vídeos originales, ya sean videoclips, actuaciones en directos, entrevistas o vídeos promocionales.

Pensando, me he dado cuenta de la enorme importancia que ha tenido MTV en mi vida. De la misma manera que la mayoría de chavales de hoy en día descubren nuevos grupos a través de MySpace u otras webs, yo descubrí a muchísimos grupos solamente gracias a MTV y la verdad es que, en cierto modo, creo que era mucho mejor. Como podéis comprobar, en MySpace hay cientos de miles (sin exagerar) de bandas y, siendo realistas, el 99,5% son basura. Cuando empecé a interesarme por
la música, internet prácticamente no existía (que PUTO viejo) y la única manera de descubrir nueva música era mediante la radio, la prensa especializada o cadenas musicales como MTV. Lo bueno era que, al haber un filtro (antes sólo los grupos competentes podían llegar a fichar con una multinacional, sacar disco,vídeo y por lo tanto conseguir un respetable nivel de popularidad) no tenías que escuchar
cientos de grupos aberrantes antes de encontrar algo que te gustara. En pocas palabras, MTV hacía el trabajo sucio por mi.

Además, si en verano de 1994 no hubiera visto el vídeo de Basket Case una terrible reacción en cadena se habría desatado: nunca hubiera agobiado a mi vago padre para que me acompañara a la tienda de discos y nunca me hubiera comprado el mítico Dookie (en cassette, por supuesto) y por lo tanto, habría empezado a interesarme por la música mucho más tarde (Eso está claro, con o sin Green Day algún día me habría dado cuenta de es lo único que me gusta de verdad, nunca me hubiera vuelto como cualquier gilipollas que escucha Melendi o algún imbécil de la misma calaña y quien al preguntarle que tipo de música le gusta te contesta “En realidad ej que me mola un poco de tó”, eso sí, ellos aceleraron el proceso a lo grande.)

Aquí os dejo el vídeo que hizo que mi vida cambiara por completo.

P.D: ¿Que vídeo cambió la vuestra? ¿O de verdad escucháis Melendi?

Let us peer into the past once again as we delve into 1981, a fine year if ever I do say. These memories of 1981 are bought to you by my old Hackbarth Insurance desk calendars that I found a short while ago in a junk drawer.

I’ve got my first-semester final exam schedule written down in January. My classes that semester included two English courses. I’m wondering why I went into computer science when I went off to college instead of some sort of major involving the English language. Oh well, that got corrected later.

Among the classes were Creative Writing and Great British Writers. I don’t remember a lot from Creative Writing except that two friends and I had to write a fiction story, and we wrote oneabout some horses, one of which was named Major Minor. I still have that story amongst my high school belongings. Apparently, I thought it was good or cool or something. Then, years later, one of the guys in class who I never ever talked to, connected with me on one of those meet people Web site. He told me the teacher told me I was to silly. I don’t recall that, but I don’t doubt I was probably silly.

British Writers featured a book called “Ethan Frome,” … oops, never mind. I read that one in Great American Writers. The author of that was Edith Wharton, who was most definitely American. She did die in France, though. So, I’m going to talk about “Ethan Frome” anyway. The only part of that book I recall is the guy sliding down the hill on a sled, trying to kill his wife who is on it with him, so he can be with someone else. Then he sees his wife’s face in the tree he’s planning on running into, and he veers off the path, but ends up maiming her. So he still has to live with her. OK, this is from memory, and my not be entirely correct. You can do a Web search to finddetailsof this book. Sure, you can. I know you are quite capable of this act. Anyway, my friend and I who took the class together thought that was so weird. So we would joke about seeing some girl’s face in a tree.

I sat in the back in Physics class and had problems paying attention. I know I would have gotten a better grade had I listened and studied than had I been drawing up pretend albumcovers with pretend songsfor a pretend band that included friends of mine. If you hear any whacked-out songs like “The Legend of Scrubber McDubber” or “Tiny Cows in Bondage” by a band called “Romulan,” tell them they owe me royalties. P.S. I actually think I have lyrics for those songs somewhere. Just waiting for U2 or somebody to add music.

Among my other classes that semester was Russian. I took Russian from sixth through 12th grade, including three years where my dad was my teacher. He intercepted Russian messages in the Air Force and learned the language then. Our Russian teacher in high school was straight from Ukraine, and when we didn’t study, he’d tell us he was going to give us a Russian karate chop and that he was so sad and he cried at night because we did not do our homework. When it came to me, he was mostly right. I had senioritis, among other things.

Psychology had to be my favorite class that year. We had a student-teacher for part of the semester, and she was flirty and quite attractive. So it was easy to enjoy that class. Plus, we didn’t get penalized for not knowing the answer. “I don’t know” was a perfectly fine answer if indeed, you did not know the answer. The teacher figured that if you thought you knew the answer and got it wrong, that was worse than simply admitting that you really had no idea what the answer was. So, we’d get a point for a correct answer, a point deducted for an incorrect answer and nothing if we chose to not answer at all, which basically told him “I don’t know.” My friend had fun during class, saying “I don’t know” every time he was asked a question. Of course, he got praised from the teacher for it. I’m thinking he just didn’t study.

Then there was Advance Chemistry with Mr. Voltz, one of my favorite teachers ever. He was tough and strict but understanding at the same time. You didn’t cross him, but you also knew he was in your corner. My favorite part of that class was when a friend of mine had brought a liquid to Mr. Voltz that he’d been trying to figure out the composition of. He named all the chemicals that were in it, but missed Cobalt. Eric tried to tell Mr. Voltz that he’d tested for Cobalt and it came back negative for that element. Mr. Voltz, who knew exactly what was in the test tube, looked at Eric with wide eyes and a shocked look. “No Cobalt, my fat fanny!” he retorted. Mr. Voltz proceeded to stir some something into the test tube and the liquid turned blue. Yep, Cobalt.

April 5: Baseball card convention at St. Aloysius Church, 92nd and Greenfield Ave. I started buying baseball cards in 1972. I remember buying my first pack at Drew’s variety store in Wauwatosa when I was supposed to buy floor wax or something that my dad sent me in for. I bought what I thought he wanted, and also saw this wax package that said “BASEBALL” on it. Cool. So I got a pack, for 10 cents I think. Anyway, they were 10 cents a pack the next year when I started using just about all my allowance to buy them. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the right product my dad asked me to get, he got angry because he had to go back in and return what I’d gotten and get the right stuff. Plus, at least one of my younger brothers was in the car, too. And I don’t think Dad wanted to leave them in the car without him in there.

This baseball card thing became somewhat of an obsession with me, as my brother and I collected, traded, shot BB gus at and played with these cards until my brother sort of lost interest and I bought out his share. I kept buying these things, branching out into football, hockey, basketball and nonsport cards in the process. I also started buying media guides, book/magazines that feature tons of info about sports teams.

These items, that my mother threatened to throw away on more than one occasion, came in handy when I got divorced. I found a guy in town who bought and sold sports cards and other items, and I sold him a bunch, which helped pay for my lawyer. A few years later, when the child support stopped comign in regular like, I sold some on eBay, which prevented me from going into any more credit card debt than I was already in. I’m getting married next year, so maybe it’s time to sell some more.

April 18: UWM. I am assuming this means my ACT exam held at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee on a Saturday morning. I overslept that day. That’s what I’m blaming my low scores on anyway. (I think they were low, I don’t actually remember). I actually turned my alarm off and went back to sleep that morning, which was strange because I never did that. I would hit the snooze once or twice, but never turn the thing all the way off and go back to my restful slumber. This time, though, I almost missed the start of my ACT.

As soon as I realized what time it was, I threw on some pants and a shirt, buttoning it on the way across town as I sped through Milwaukee in the trusty (ha!) Fury III (oh, the stories I can tell you about that car). I don’t think I even ate anything more than an apple perhaps. I found a parking spot rather close to the test site, which in itself is somewhat of a miracle. I don’t remember the rest of the day, although I know I was plenty hungry when the test was over.

As graduation neared, I started working more at the Lutheran Home for the Aging. I had shifts of 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. on most weekends in May, plus some evening shifts. By this time, my friend and I had been switched from the maintenance department to the housekeeping department, although our duties never really changed. We still mopped floors, used the scrubbing machine to clean floors and used a whizzing, whirring waxing machine to buff floors.

Being teenagers, we lost focus sometimes. Being stupid, we wasted time. We even spent one entire day not doing one darn thing. We actually had intended to help one of the maintenance guys at one point, and were waiting for him in the basement, thinking we’d be moving a resident’s stuff from a storage area. But he never showed up and we were not exactly in the mood to look for him either. We sort of got in trouble with our boss, a Mexican lady at that point. We had an older Jamaican man in our department and he’d get all upset that a woman was telling him what to do. In Jamaica, he’d say, the man is the king and the woman is the queen. Oh well, she was the boss.

June 1981 was quite the month for me. It included a visit to our school by the guy after whom they developed the “Baretta” TV series, I called my Psychology student-teacher on the phone, graduated from high school and made the first of two camping trips to Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin. For joy.

Toma was inspiration behind that Baretta show … that’s the one where Robert Blake played the maverick New York detective with the talking cockatoo. Toma was pretty cool. I don’t remember his first name.

I didn’t actually view high school graduation as a major accomplishment. It wasn’t that difficult to graduate. But it did signify a new beginning. In the fall, I’d be leaving home and going to college. I needed to leave, at least for a little while. I think I needed to find out how good I had it. Well, other stuff, too.

Wow, I put in my first 40-hour work week from July 12-18 that year. Five eight-hour shifts at the Home. Money, that’s what I want…

Turned 18 years old on Aug. 3. That was the drinking age back then in Wisconsin, a state known for binge drinking. I didn’t drink then. I started four months later, which was not a good thing. Years later, I’m back to basically not drinking … a tad here and there. Whew! I made it.

Wow, these things are getting long. The more I remember, the more I want to write. We’ll have to do 1981 in two parts. It was a major year of change in my life; it deserves two parts.