Preparing For the Upcoming Spring and Summer Season at Flower Street Station

B. Thomas Cooper - Editor

Sound and Recording - National News wire - The Infinite Echo

Welcome to the Official Blog for Flower Street Station.



An impressive crowd turned up for the first FSS production of the new Spring season. True, there were few new faces. It was in fact, pretty much the regular crowd. The seating was beyond capacity and the food went fast. We roasted chicken and hotdogs, some of which inevitably was stolen by various cats, exploiting the fact that everyone’s attention was elsewhere. The weather could not have been nicer, nor the live audience more involved. It was a great way to start things off.

Performers included balladeer, Don Bisco, songwriter and pianist Paul Bruce, thirteen year old comedic sensation Sean Duff, and lastly, B. Thomas Cooper and Friends, featuring Jon Duff and Nick Gill.

The performances have never sounded better. FOH (front of house) was provided by Don Bisco. Stage monitors, provided by Flower Street Station. The staging has been vastly revamped since last season, providing better sight lines, and superior lighting. Everything ran like clockwork. Digital clockwork, I might add.

In the next few days, a song or two will be culled from the performances and posted on various sites throughout the internet. Here’s a quick ‘head’s up’… I hear we can expect an interesting recording of ‘Two Apostles’ (B. Thomas Cooper) to be posted, perhaps as soon as tomorrow.

It is always our goal to ‘up the bar’, as they say, and indeed, that’s what we all intend to do this season. We’ve certainly come out of the gate with a full head of steam. (Editor’s note- How’s that for mixing and matching metaphors?)

At any rate, expect us to spend the next two weeks frantically preparing for the next performance, March 14th, 2009. This is Nick's birthday, so we are planning something a little extra.(Don't mention anything about it to him, of course. It's supposed to be a secret.)

I know... times are hard already, and summer is right around the corner. Just remember, when your surfing is suffering, and you got no place to go, get sidetracked… with Flower Street Station.

So what are you waiting for?
“You don’t need no baggage, you just climb on board.”
Curtis Mayfield

B. Thomas Cooper - Editor

Sound and Recording - Sound Foundation - National Newswire - The Infinite Echo - Skate the Razor -
Skate the Razor Blog

Happy Thanksgiving

B. Thomas Cooper - Editor

Sound and Recording - National News wire - The Infinite Echo

With Thanksgiving upon us, America is facing crisis on a number of fronts. The troubled economy is first and foremost in the minds of most, but our problems go well beyond our current economic woes. Much like the children’s story about a certain Mr. Dumpty, our nation is experiencing fractures from the impact of a great fall, and we’ll need more than a new king and his henchmen to piece this thing back together.

Of course, I mean no slight to the president elect. Obama has assembled an impressive team of respected minds to lead us out of this mire. Still, they will have many obstacles set before them in coming months. The situation is both dire, and ugly.

On a lighter note…
Here along the home front, the turkey is in the oven, and a fresh pot of coffee is on the way. Earlier this morning, the power was off for an hour or so, which wasn’t so bad, really. We all climbed out of bed, placed lit candles in strategic locations, and proceeded to heat water on our gas stove for the purpose of hot coco. As it turns out, hot coco by candlelight at six in the morning is a wonderful way to start thanksgiving day.

It has been raining for hours, but the sun is beginning to poke through the clouds from time to time. At sixty-eight degrees, we are not discussing global warming today. It’s just too nice out… it wouldn’t seem right. It’s for weather like this, after all, that people move to the valley in the first place.

I haven’t been posting as often as I would like, but hopefully I’ll get a few more posts up in the coming days. There has been much to write about, but my attention has been elsewhere. I just wanted to take a few moments of my time, (and perhaps a few minutes of yours) to count my blessing contemplate the future. Hopefully, I’ll see you there.

Until next time, happy thanksgiving, and may your turkey (and your thoughts) be tasteful and tender.

Brad

B. Thomas Cooper - Editor

Sound and Recording - Sound Foundation - National Newswire - The Infinite Echo - Skate the Razor -
Skate the Razor Blog

Harry and the Monologue

It’s only Saturday, and already, it’s been quite a week. I have been working away on a monologue I am set to deliver this Saturday at Flower Street Station in Phoenix.

As you might guess, listening to a monologue and delivering a monologue are quite different, and composing this first monologue has not proven a simple task. For several days now, I have shouldered the burden of great anxiety over the content, you know, just trying to find the right words to share on such a momentous occasion.

In fact, it has begun to adversely effect my sleep to the point where I am experiencing nightmares. Usually I don’t recall my dreams, but one in particular continues to haunt me.

In this dream, I’m sitting in the front row of what begins as a typical show here at Flower Street station, but then suddenly morphs into a large, exquisite auditorium, complete with orchestra pit, and an entire orchestra, with a pair of cellists sitting just below me, perhaps no further than three or four feet away. In this dream, I am so close to the musicians, I can see the eyes as they follow along with the dots on the sheets of music before them, strange, as I should have been staring at the backs of their heads. May I remind you, it was, of course, only a dream.

On stage is a large, pearl white grand piano. Playing that piano is none other than singer, songwriter, Marc Cohn, known primarily for his one big hit, Walking in Memphis released back in 1991. In fact, Mr. Cohn is performing a rather moving rendition of Walking in Memphis, and is just about to admit to being a Christian of convenience, when out of the blue, in swings Terrible Ted Nugent, high above the crowd, one hand grasping a rope, the other a cross-bow. Terrible Ted is quite old in my dream. He appears to be in his late seventies, perhaps older. Like many his age he has little body fat… he is all skin and muscle, and he is wearing nothing more than a deer skin G-string and a camouflage-colored military style beret that makes him appear as though he is wearing camel genitalia on his forehead. It is not a pretty sight, mind you, and it’s about to get downright ugly.

Just as the song is reaching it’s dramatic crescendo, Ted aims with precision, discharging his trusty cross-bow. Ted, as you know, is a master marksman and bow hunter. He scores a direct hit, striking Mr. Cohn in the center of his heart, which explodes on impact, sending a stream of blood gushing onto the pearl white grand piano, and covering the nearly naked Nugent. As Ted reaches up to wipe the blood from his eyes, he looses grip of the rope and falls into the orchestra pit below, impaled on a cello. There he lies, obviously mortally wounded, poked through the middle like a shish kabob.

I react as any man would. I lean over the orchestral pit, and I ask the mortally impaled Ted if he is alright. Of course, he isn’t alright, and I believe he would have said as much if he hadn’t been so delirious. Ted is in shock now, and his time on this Earth slipping away. Again, I speak to the dying man, asking if he has any last words before moving on to that great used car lot in the sky. He looks at me with a kind of a look only a nearly dead Ted Nugent can conjure up, and with his final breath, mutters the words,,, Harry Bedurchy.

Harry Bedurchy, and then he just slumps back on the cello and dies. Harry Bedurchy, I repeat, as the house lights come on and the crowd begins to shuffle out. Harry Bedurchy, indeed, and with that I awakened from my dream. Even now, I have no idea what may have prompted this nightmarish scenario. I can only wonder.

Well, I suppose it’s time to wrap up this, my first of monologues. I hope you’ve enjoyed it, and I hope the next time you hear the song Walking in Memphis, you think of an aged Ted Nugent sporting camel genitalia. I know I will. Good night everyone. Oh and by all means, Harry Bedurchy.

Brad

Welcome to Flower Street Station

Welcome To Flower Street Station,

It should be expected, this is apt to take a few days to get up and organized, so hand on tight while we get our content together. I'll probably pull a few posts from our other blogs just to get the ball rolling, so check back as often as you like.

Brad Cooper
Sound Foundation Entertainment