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For the Grads Jay Kerner Publisher/College Drop-out
I can’t believe another graduation season has passed without an invitation to make a commencement speech. Maybe my phone was off the hook. Perhaps I was off-line for a while. Probably everyone assumed I was already booked. Be that as it may, I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t take the opportunity to share with this year’s graduates, some life lessons acquired at my own alma matter. (The Institute of Hard Freaking Knocks.) Normally, I would tailor my speech to the particular audience, but under the circumstances I’m forced to include a little something for everybody. So we’ll start with the PRE-SCHOOL Graduates. Shut up you little babies! You haven’t done squat. Big deal, you know some colors and numbers. So what? Sure, you can sing the alphabet song, but take away the melody and you can’t tell a “B” from an “Ellemeno Pee”. Your scissors are rounded off and your shoes are all Velcro. Society has recognized your ineptitude with glassware and cutlery, and manufactured food and drink in pouches so you can feed yourselves without injury. Still, they’ll put a cap and gown on you and make a big deal out of it. Try not to poop your pants during the ceremony. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL GRADUATES. Way to go! You’re ready for Middle School, yet most of you still need help cutting your own meat. You can’t name the President, but know even the secondary characters on Sponge Bob Square Pants. You get lost walking the three blocks home from school, yet know every acre of fantasy real estate on 134 levels of some stupid game on your phone. But thank heaven for those phones. Without them you couldn’t do elementary math. Or fling cartoon birds. MIDDLE SCHOOL GRADUATES. Congratulations. By all rights, your parents should have drowned you by now. You have made it to the end of a course of study, seemingly designed to foster obnoxiousness. You know nothing yet think you know everything. Your parents will make a huge fuss but the truth is, you’re insufferable and they fear what will become of you with your anti-social behavior and less than stellar reasoning skills. HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATES. Shut the hell up. If you are reading this, (fat chance) you have now reached the same academic level as the average Asian ten year old. Look around you, H.S. graduate. Regardless of the “reach for the stars” platitudes tossed out by your commencement speaker, most of your classmates have already passed the peak of their existence. There’s nothing ahead for most of you but unsatisfying mind-numbing employment and the long slow downhill slide toward death. Some of you will go to college. Some of you will join the military. Some will join the family business. Maybe 2% of you will end up doing anything remotely similar to whatever your plan is today. The vast majority of you will trip and fall into a slot, not of your choosing. Like, one day you’re hanging out chillin’ with your buds, and the next thing you know, you’re the assistant to the assistant pit supervisor at the
Speedy Oil Change joint and wondering what happened. COLLEGE GRADUATES. You sorry bastards. What the hell were you thinking? You’re so far in debt, your kids will still be paying off your student loans long after you’re gone. You’re going off, sheepskin in hand, completely unprepared for what’s out there. As a public service I’ve put together a short guide to help various degree holders find something they’re qualified for. English Degree. Consider teaching English as a second language. Start by teaching illegal immigrants. Later on you’ll be in position to teach Americans once Spanish is our official language. Recreation Mgmt. You’re in luck! There are six Foot Locker stores in every mall, and your years of reffing intramural pickleball games means you’ll be right at home in the zebra suit. Journalism. What? Was the telegraph course full up? Seriously, did you really think there was a newspaper job waiting for you? Ha ha ha! Welcome to reality, future blogger. Business Majors should consider starting out in Organized Crime. Once you get used to the treachery and become immune to the sight of blood you’ll be ready for Corporate America. Psychology. Sorry, there is no practical use for this. So there you have it. Some friendly tips for graduates at every level. What? You take issue with some of my comments? You think they apply to everybody but you, don’t you? Well, guess what? My smart-alec comments don’t have any more to do with you and your life than any sunshine and balloons speech about the future. Your future will be determined by the decisions you make more than any other factor. Do a good job on the big ones. Take chances on the ones that won’t kill you. You have the power to be the exception to every rule. Don’t take anybody’s word over your own. Figure out who you want to be, and the what you want to be will most likely take care of itself.
Dear Joe, Thank you so much for the heart-felt story about Bugsy Maugh. I had the honor of meeting Mr. Maugh at a charity event a few years ago. We shared a beer and exchanged a few stories of life on the road. We had never crossed paths previously but had a lot of friends in common. I was so sorry to hear how the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame could treat him so coldly. I know it’s all politics, but what a crock of you know what! He was a key member of the Butterfield Blues Band, and to not have him onstage was a sad joke. Your story didn’t go into his other music credits, but he did a lot more than just Butterfield. He played with Clapton. He played with Jimi. He played with Janis, and even became the lead singer for her band after her death. He’s on Todd Rundgren’s first album. The recent passing of the legendary BB King, reminds us of a story Bugsy told about playing his 50th birthday party at Madison Square Garden. Hendrix showed up late, and held up the whole show while he strung up his elaborate nest of pedals and chords.
The people that were there during the height of the Rock and Roll era are all fading away. We’re glad Bugsy got to go to Cleveland even if he didn’t get all the recognition he deserved. We hope he gets all the love someone of his stature should get locally. Sometimes it’s hard to realize that the scrawny looking old dude on stage, once rubbed shoulders with the giants of the music industry. Keep up the good work Regular Joe!
Contact The Regular Joe 816-617-5850 email@theregularjoepaper.com P.O. Box 1304 St. Joseph, Mo. 64502 Read us online www.theregularjoepaper.com
Waterworks
Jay Kerner
They say some folks wear their emotions on their sleeves. Mine ride a little higher. I’m a crier. Always have been. One of my earliest memories is getting swatted by my old man and then getting another for crying about it. “Big boys don’t cry” wass a lesson taught early. Crying in public is a worse sin than walking around with your fly open. It’s embarrassing and can be set off by such random things. An offhand remark, an email, an AT&T commercial. The movie industry is a big culprit. I’ll never understand why people pay good money to go see sad movies. Early in our dating years, the future Queen could get me to the occasional tear-jerker. Terms of Endearment was a horrible ordeal. Steel Magnolias was pure torture. Those of us who are affected by such things can tell when the worst scenes are about to happen. The music gives it away. The violins come up and the next thing you know, Bambi’s Mom bites it. Or Old Yeller does. Or Dorothy tells the Scarecrow she’ll miss him most of all. Or ET phones home. I try not to put myself through that stuff much anymore. But it’s contagious. Other people crying sets me off. Not babies for some reason, but pretty much anybody else. It’s why I seldom attend funerals. Even when it’s someone I barely know, the minute somebody else starts, my sympathetic tear ducts flip a switch and here we go. When I have to attend out of obligation, I load up on Kleenex, sit in the back, and suffer through it. I’ve always thought of it as sort of a “condition”. Like allergies or phobias. If you can’t eat peanuts, stay away from the brittle. If you don’t do heights, keep off of the ladder. But sometimes you just have to suck it up and go. My kids know all about it. I’ve cried at dance recitals and school concerts. I’ve blubbered at every kind of awards assembly from preschool through a couple of college graduations. I made it through one wedding reception’s daddy/daughter dance (just barely) with one more yet to come. It’s a crier’s worst nightmare, a surefire, full blown waterworks spectacular, on full display for an audience all going awwwwwwww. Lately I’ve seen a commercial for a new drug to treat the most extreme cases of over-crying. But first of course, they’ve created a name for the condition, PBA or Pseudobulbar Affect. Not sure I buy in. I don’t think every sniff, twinge or tear deserves a write up in the New England Journal of Medicine, yet alone an ongoing prescription to treat it. Maybe I’m all wrong about this crying stuff. There’s sure a lot of it in popular music. Crying worked out pretty well for Roy Orbison. Willie Nelson’s baby blues cried in the rain. “I am”, cried Neil Diamond. (But no one heard at all, not even the
chair). Question Mark and the Mysterians cried 96 Tears while Smoky Robinson shed the Tears of a Clown. But damn it, it’s our party, and Leslie Gore and I will cry if we want to! I suppose I could get myself some tear tattoos like dudes in prison. That would be pretty cool, though technically I think I’m supposed to shank some people first. So I guess I’ll just live with it. Maybe you’ll notice, maybe you won’t. “So, take a good look at my face. You’ll see my smile looks out of place. If you look closer it’s easy to trace, the tracks of my tears.”
Streams of Consciousness ...Hey! (rglr) Joe,where you going with that gun in your hand...though I’ve never on principle carried, can say that back in the day, it would have been ‘67 or ‘68, there was an occasion when I would have been going to see the PBBB at the Grande D ballroom in Detroit...also saw the Cream,the MC5 and others there...the time I was in Detroit would bracket its’ great (‘’riot’’) uprising ...I was then associated with Detroit’s underground newspaper, as similar ones were called at the time in urban America, The Fifth Estate...my friend, the editor Peter Werbe, went on to become a well known progressive radio talk show host in Detroit...our most famous columnist,John Sinclair, acid-head guru of the local hippie subculture, was arrested for possession of a botanical product with certain,yikes!, mind altering properties (now legal and fully integrated into above ground capitalism in the state of Colorado), and the Beatles did a concert whose proceeds went to his defense fund... during the uprising John was dispensing ‘’free’’ gasoline... I wasn’t an actual eyewitness to his exemplary no doubt high as a kite redistribution of wealth (or not so exemplary since the gas
station franchisers were hardly at the pinnacle of concentrated wealth) but thinking retroactively can say were the imminent catastrophe of global warming known at the time he would have stood ideologically athwart the motor city’s industrial investment at the heart of the fossil fuel economy...I was to move on to San Francisco to become a poor relations friend of rock royalty Jerry Garcia (my superego says “not above name dropping I see”)...in the end I was on the street... Jerry of course continued driving his Bentley... his ashes are now in the SF Bay but in a ‘’life is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying nothing’’ happening,they apparently blew back on the surviving Dead, who were not without a sense of the absurd, in the boat from which they were scattering them who had to brush some of them off at home (every generation which takes itself too seriously has its comeuppance)...the mystery is how biologically organized matter evolved into vulnerably sentient conscious selves...to begin with from the get go matter which is an arrested form of energy has to have always had since its the explosive galactic send off from the cosmic singular-
ity of our universe’s big bang a proto-conscious dimension...as a species we have regrettably not used the advanced consciousness evolution has brought this dimension to and given us to minimize human suffering nor obviously that of all the sentient creatures teeming with us on earth’s enveloping biosphere...our lives along with those in every generation of every species being mere geological eyeblinks,the question which begs is how could any compassionately feeling human being stand to witness anymore of earth’s toll of suffering than they do in a their natural life span...still and all we ask not for whom the bell tolls but mourn for all transpersonally in ourselves...I have four sculptures in public settings in St. Joseph : at MWSU there are two in the Remington science bldg. and one on its grounds outside the the north entrance;the fourth is in in the lobby of the Nodaway Valley bank on Riverside...so power to the people or at least a fanfare for the common man in this Appalachian spring...with reverence for life, Brent Collins
Bon Voyage, Bobby Floyd Danny Phillips Regular Joe Music Guy
I have spent the lion’s share of a beautiful Sunday staring at a computer screen, contemplating the perfect way to write about the topic of friendship. When the person I’ve tasked myself with writing about is local music fixture/legend Bobby Floyd, the challenge grows tenfold. I could pontificate about his bands Alice, Holy Mother Exhaust or Dsoedean (and I will) but this time, out of all the times I’ve written about Bobby over the years, I’ll take the majority of my meager space here talking about my friend, Bobby Dean Floyd as he prepares to move his family to Portland, Oregon and its greener pastures. Bobby was my first interview ever as a “professional music journalist.” I went to Rachel Hoffman’s house (member of Alice and daughter of St. Joseph musician, Bill Hoffman) to interview her then new band Alice as they practiced in the basement. As I walked down the stairs with my old shoe box cassette recorder, the first person I saw was the prematurely balding Bobby Floyd, wailing away on the drum set. We immediately started giving each other a hard time, with short breaks to discuss the music Alice was making, the Pixies, how Alice sounded strangely similar, in a good way, to Veruca Salt as well as The Breeders, and our mutual admiration for the punk band Fugazi. That first meeting was fourteen years ago and Bobby has been a pain in my ass ever since. Through all those years, Bobby has been a sort of twisted inspiration, a borderline court jester in a world and music scene that sometimes takes itself too seriously. Bobby lays wisdom down when you least expect it. Many times during my troubles, either real or self-imposed, he has always been a friend. On the many occasions that I wanted to give up writing out of frustration or just plain boredom, Bobby would talk me off the proverbial ledge with his words of encouragement for the career I was crafting out of 30% talent and 70% BS. He would tell me one of three things: one) “You would be missed around here if you quit writing? Who would write about our egos then?” two) “Do what you want… if you want to be a quitter” and 3) “You’ve got real talent, Danny. Don’t throw it away.” Number three was the most effective of all three pearls of wisdom. Like it or not, I’m still here, still shoveling the BS with the best of them, thanks in no small part to Bobby, it’s his fault. When my marriage imploded, Bobby would try (sometimes succeed) to drag me from my depression long enough for a show and a few beers, never saying too much, just making sure I was alive. From time to time, we’ll see each other on the street, discuss music, crazy people, collapsed relationships past and present, our respective children (one in his case) and the “we don’t hang out enough” line before parting ways. Nevertheless, almost like clockwork before I could escape, I would receive a patented “Bobby Floyd Uncomfortable Man Hug.” A hug wherein Bobby lingers a bit too long before rubbing his whiskers on your cheek, a hug made more unpleasant by the fact that I hate hugs, a quirk of mine Bobby knows well, making him want to hug me even more out of pure orneriness. I’ll probably miss those moments, those discussions, those beers with Bobby more than I realize as I type these words. Not only has Bobby left his mark on everyone he’s met here in St. Joseph, he’s left a mark on the St. Joseph music scene that can never be washed away, much like that tattoo you regret or that
stubborn skid mark that just won’t leave your favorite pair of underwear. With Alice, he along with Rachel Hoffman and Erika (Pontius) Foulk , helped bring women fronted rock to a town seemingly stuck in a cycle of cover bands, either country bands or testosterone driven, bloated derivative hard rock and metal. Not necessarily, a good environment for a punk rock loving music journalist but that would soon change. Around the same time as Alice, other bands that loved punk and alternative music, started to make a shift, a movement for lack of a better word. The Ramey Memo, The Rogers, Pompous Pilot, Full Power, Seven Mile Drive, The Waystation, American Revolt, Hooray for Me and many others lost to an aging mind packed with music “knowledge,” began to fill The Rendezvous with people, eager to hear something else, something different. Not one to rest, Bobby formed Holy Mother Exhaust (still the best band name to come out of this town) to satisfy his love of noise, strange time signatures and off kilter vocal delivery ala Frank Black and David Byrne. Alongside Marc Darnell (now of Cupcake) and then drummer Keith Jensen, the band made a racket, still unmatched years later. Next in my memory comes Dsoedean, a band that, with Zale Bledsoe, Colby Walter and Cody Hudson has gone from a band I often referred to as “hey, is this Modest Mouse?” for the band’s similarity to the Seattle, Washington band, to a true emotion filled powerhouse with their own sound, own identity and their own presence. Yes, Bobby will be missed by any band that needs a drummer. Any fan of his numerous bands will miss Bobby, my daughter Drew, who Bobby met at aged four and since has always been his biggest fan will miss him undoubtedly, as will anyone who values a great musician, a great person with a story to tell. Yes, I will miss all these things about Bobby Floyd. However, the one thing I’ll miss most is Bobby, my friend. I love you man, we all love you. Kaley, Fiona and you enjoy Portland but do not forget about us, the music scene you helped build or the friends you have made, all of us that consider you family. Bon Voyage.
Live Music Hi-Lites across the Northland Brew Top Pub North 8614 N. Boardwalk Fri 6/5 The Dissapointments Sat 6/6 Switch Sat 6/13 Dolewite Fri 6/19 Twice on Sunday Fri 6/26 Cherry Bombs Sat 6/27 Groove Therapy
Mosaic Life Care’s Forks ‘n’ Tunes Series
Sherlock’s Underground 858 S 291 Liberty Every Wed at 8pm Oasis
The Hideout 6948 N. Oak
Every Thursday is Bike Nite with Dave Hayes Band, Levee Town, and Blue 88 Open blues jam Sundays, 7 p.m.
Mosaic Life Care at Shoal Creek, Courtyard 8870 NE 82nd Terrace Friday, June 26th Four Fried Chickens and a Coke
Fat Fish Blue 7260 NW 87th
in Zona Rosa Live Music Most Weekends
Pat’s Pub 1315 Swift in NKC
Every Wed nite Open Jam hosted by Rob Gray
The Big BAM Promises Big Adventure Shannon Bond If adventure by bicycle, live music, festivals, and craft beer are your thing, then Bike Across Missouri looks like your kind of ride. This is the first year for the 300 mile, 30 band, five day cycling extravaganza. If the venue is ringing a mental bell, then you’re thinking of Iowa’s vastly popular RAGBRAI. In fact, RAGBRAI is the inspiration and model for this new state traversing adventure. It has been concocted by Missouri Life Media, who publishes Missouri Life Magazine, and owns Off Track Events, who happens to put on Pedaler’s Jamboree. Pedaler’s Jamboree is a Katy Trail adventure, which is shorter in length and many miles south, but also filled with music and beer. You can visit www.pedalersjamboree.com and www.missourilife.com for more information about those high quality Missouri productions. While Pedaler’s Jamboree caters to the cyclist and noncyclist alike, the Big BAM is strictly for those who enjoy extended time in the saddle. The five day adventure begins with a party in Rock Port, Mo. on Sunday, June 21st. Riders and support crews will partake in craft beer, food and performances by SP3 and Tyrannosaurus Chicken. After camping for the night, cyclists will mount up and ride to Maryville for the first leg of the journey. There are stops with live music at Tarkio and Burlington Junction along the way. While the first day is only 40 miles, the next day’s ride to Albany jumps up to 64 miles. Of course all of the daily schedules include small town stops filled with local charm, vendors, and bands offering everything from delta blues to folk rock. The adventure continues throughout the week with the longest day adding up to a grand total of 81 glorious pedal spinning miles. The organizers are anticipating about 2,000 riders so there will be plenty of company as cyclists wind their way through the rolling Northern Missouri landscape. A luxury shuttle service is being offered, which will take riders from the final destination on Canton, Mo. all the way back to the starting point, in order to retrieve parked vehicles. The price tag on that cross state journey is only $95 and it probably takes less than five days to do it in a luxury bus. Hopefully the riders have a chance to jump in the shower before jumping on the bus. If riders do like the idea of creature comforts, like showers, they can opt in to the “Shower and Comfort package” for only $75. According to the website riders get a hot shower every day, private dressing areas, towels, phone
charging access, duffel bag transfer, access to a shaded social zone, and a complimentary craft beer at every overnight town. While Missouri has a lot of festivals and fitness events, this looks like a fantastic merging of the two. It’s not a race, obviously, it’s more of a cultural blend of bike touring, brew and bands. As such, it may serve as a nice break for athletes who are pounding the United Federation of Dirt series, Legend Triathlon series or any other cycling race series. Even if a rider isn’t able to take an entire week to cruise across the state, there is a $35 single day pass option. The full five day package costs $135. It’s important as cyclists, athletes, and Missouri enthusiasts to understand that it costs money to put these events on, not to mention run a magazine featuring the best of Missouri. Just like volunteering at your local trails on maintenance day (if you’re a trail runner or mountain biker), this looks like a great way to support Missouri cycling, local artists, and brewers. For more information you can visit www.bigbamride.com. The site lists all of the towns, artists, and schedules. The route map provides a useful overview and the FAQ’s are thoughtful, for example riders can indeed have their own support and gear (SAG) vehicles. Not only that, the race organizers will give them a permit and safety guide. It seems like a classy event being put on by professionals. Check back with Joe Adventure (online at www.theregularjoepaper. com or in print at your favorite location) after the event for a recap. Of course, we hope to see you out there, just look for the Regular Joe Adventure jersey and say hi (if the wearer of that jersey is lying in the ditch halfway to the next town, don’t panic, we’re sure it’s not serious and the SAG wagon will likely be along any moment).
Code Blues and Blue Zones One of the most inspiring and fascinating health books to be published this year that I’m currently reading has to be Dan Buettner’s The Blue Zones Solution. For the past 10 years Mr. Buettner, a National Geographic Society fellow, has been traveling the world, seeking out and studying the world’s longest-living people. And it may surprise you to find out that these healthy centenarians don’t “work out” in gyms, run marathons, pop prescription drugs or even supplements or try the latest diet trends in an effort to lose unwanted pounds. They’re just naturally healthy and normal weight because their lifestyles and their environments encourage and support healthy living. They don’t have to worry very much about being a code blue because they live in the blue zones. Blue zone is a term coined by Mr. Buettner and his research team when they outlined in blue ink on a world map the areas where the healthiest people live. Guess where these blue zones are? Okinawa, Japan; Sardinia, Italy, Nicoya Penninsula, Costa Rica; Ikaria, Greece and Loma Linda, Calif. Although they are geographically separated from each other and are more or less isolated, these populations tend to share the following nine characteristics: 1. They eat a mostly plant-based whole-foods diet, though none of them are strictly vegetarian except the Seventh-day Adventists in Loma Linda, and interestingly, the longest-lived among them include cold-water fish in their diet. 2.They move naturally. Movement (gardening, walking, housework etc) is a part of their daily lives. They don’t run on treadmills or lift weights. 3.They have a purpose in life, a reason for getting up in the morning, which is worth seven extra years of life expectancy.
4. They Downshift. All of the Blue Zoners experience stress like everyone else,but they have daily routines that help them relieve it. 5. 80 Percent Rule: The Okinawans in particular eat; only until their stomachs are 80 percent full. They know when to push away from the table, and that 20 percent gap between hunger and fullness might make all the difference in maintaining a healthy weight. 6. They drink one or two glasses of red wine daily (even some of the Adventists), but no more than that. Moderate wine drinkers actually outlive teetotalers. 7. Their social circles support their healthy behaviors. On Okinawa, for example, they have moais, groups of five friends that commit to help each other for life. 8. Of the 263 centenarians inteviewed, all but five belonged to a faith-based community. And denomination or religion didn’tseem to matter. According to Mr. Buettner, attending faith-based services several times a month extends a person’s life from four to 14 years. 9. Blue zoners put their families first, caring for their aged parents at home and committing to a life partner ( the latter adds three years of life expectancy) They also invest their time and love into their children, and in turn, their children take care of them when they are older. Even though we don’t live in a so-called Blue Zone here in St. Joseph (You might call us a Code Blue Zone instead!) we can imitate the blue zoners by incorporating their lifestyle principles into our daily lives. No one principle by itself ensures health and longevity, but combined together in a natural synergy, they will help us live happier, healthier and hopefully, longer lives. Here’s a toast to the long-lived Blue Zoners! --James Fly Certified Health Coach (Institute for Integrative Nutrition)
Sounds of Summer in Downtown St. Joe
The St. Joseph Downtown Association is proud to announce their line-up for the 2015 “Sounds of Summer” Concert series. This is the seventeenth year for the series that has grown in popularity every year. May 29th – “Friends and Family” This group which consists of Jeromie Frost, Jack Frost, Tim Arnold, Jesse Barbosa, Charles Bradford and random guests is a crowd favorite because they play a selection of covers that span five decades. A “Friends and Family” show ventures from the genres of classic rock and modern pop to R&B, blues and even a bit of soul.
of Hibernians are partnering with the Downtown Association to present Kansas City’s premiere Irish blue-grassical band! This group delivers a high energy performance. The group consists of Shane Borth, a classically trained fiddler; Michael Cochran, a hard rock drummer and Cameron Russell, a folk guitarist.Theyperform everything from Metallica to Irish Traditional Music and put a whole new spin on all kinds of classic favorites! July 10th – “Swift Kik” Swift Kik just celebrated 35 years as one of the favorite bands in the Midwest! The group consisting of Ron Tiller, Rick Clark, Barry Poe, Erich Ulehorn and Kevin Snowden plays a variety of the best classic rock and roll. Since 1979, they have been one of most popular bands in the area because they deliver a high energy rock show featuring great vocal harmonies, dual lead guitars and the best melodic rock from yesterday through today. July 17th – “Soca Jukebox” Island Rock extroverts, “Soca Jukebox” is on the of genre’s premier show bands. This five-piece band features a battery of shimmering steel pans, an array of Latin percussion, a fastidious rhythm section and incendiary guitar work. A “Soca Jukebox” engagement showcases performers who are dedicated to “bringing the party” by providing diverse musical genres reinvigorated by fresh, stylized arrangements and a high energy percussion show.
June 26th – “Flannigan’s Right Hook” (below) The Ancient Order
July 24th – “Charlie and the Stingrays” Charlie and the Stingrays is a no-holds barred party band that’s always a guaranteed good time. They play the hottest Rock and Roll hits from the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s along with carefully chosen dance favorites of today. This mixture makes for an evening of non-stop excitement. The five piece band consisting of Charlie Stendebach, Chris Moore, Chris Jones, Brion Leftwich and Dennis White has been together for twenty-seven years. July 31st – “B.O.C.C.” Blue Oyster Culture Club is St. Joseph’s premier 80”s cover band! Todd Cooper, Chris Clark, Corey Riley and Bill Blizzard will rock the Coleman Hawkins Park at Felix Street Square with all the 80’s hits! “Sounds of Summer” is presented by Sunshine Electronic Display this year. The concerts are from 6 pm to 9 pm at Coleman Hawkins Park at Felix Street Square. Admission is free. Ice cold soda, beer, wine and food is available for purchase. Individuals are encouraged to bring lawn chairs or blankets, no coolers or carry-ins are allowed. For more information call 233-9192.
Where to go when you come to
St. Joe
Wabash BBQ’s Blues Garden is Chillin’ in Excelsior Springs The meat isn’t the only thing smoking at the Wabash this summer. The cool, funky joint in the old train depot behind the Elms hotel, has their Blues Garden cranked up again for another season of smokin’ tunes under the stars. Saturday June 6th will feature The Brandon Miller Band, (right). Saturday June 20th Connie Hawkins & The Blues Wreckers. Saturday June 27th The Bel-Airs take the stage. It’s a great place to enjoy some award winning bbq, some cold beverages and some of the areas finest bands. They’re at 646 S. Kansas City Avenue, in Excelsior Springs. Give them a call at
816-630-7700 or check them out online at www. wabashbbq.com.