Reading Log: December 2018

Books acquired: “The Portable Hawthorne,” Malcolm Cowley, ed.; “The Cambridge Companion to Bob Dylan,” Kevin Dettmar, ed.

Books read: “Ritchie Valens, the First Latino Rocker,” Beverly Mendheim; “Janis,” David Dalton; “Bob Dylan: Performing Artist, the Middle Years, 1974-1986,” Paul Williams

Happy December! I finished my reading early, pre-Christmas actually, and so here I am in the same month rather than a few days into the next.

I finished a trio of books, all of them with a rock musician’s name in the title. I read the Dylan because it is the oldest unread book on my shelves, and the last from my years living in the Bay Area. I have a half-dozen unread books of Dylaniana still and, see above, just bought another. Janis Joplin is another favorite. Valens is to be the subject of a future column.

It’s a shame that three decades after publication, “Ritchie Valens” (1987) evidently remains the only biography of the pioneering singer and guitarist, only 17 when he died in the same plane crash that killed Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper, and with a career that lasted all of eight months.

To her credit, Mendheim (who as a teen saw Valens perform live in NYC) spoke to the relevant people and gathered copious source material. But she’s not expert enough to have made a real narrative out of it. Worthwhile for admirers, though. The conflicting memories of members of the Silhouettes, a local band in which Valens was a member, is both frustrating and hilarious; they can’t agree on much of anything.

I don’t know that I would have liked Janis Joplin had I known her, as she was so needy and outrageous (and faux-outrageous), but I find her fascinating to listen to and read about. She was a real trailblazer who suffered for being a woman and for being ahead of her time. The best bio is likely “Scars of Sweet Paradise” by Alice Echols, which I read a few years ago, pre-blog.

“Janis” (1971) is a ramshackle biography-cum-scrapbook published a year after her death, composed of relaxed interviews with Joplin from 1970, various Rolling Stone articles, a hefty photo section, sheet music for some of her best-known songs and a flexi-disc of talking. (The disc is still attached to the book and I think it’s more valuable to me preserved intact compared to the likely meager rewards of tearing it out and listening to it.) So as books go it’s a curio, but as a fan I enjoyed this more than I’d expected.

I read Paul Williams’ “Bob Dylan: Performing Artist, the Early Years, 1960-1973” in 1993, three years after publication, and let me tell you, I read it, listening to the records and following along with the lyrics, and also playing whatever unreleased tapes or records I happened to own. It took months. It was rewarding, but still. When I bought the sequel, I wanted to do the same thing, but after a suitable break.

Well, a quarter-century later (gulp), and trying to raise the floor of my unread books backlog by clearing out the stragglers from the late ’80s and early ’90s, I finally read “Performing Artist II” (1992). And it took months. This period starts with the 1974 comeback tour and “Blood on the Tracks” and ends with a 1986 tour with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and the dismal “Knocked Out Loaded.”

The late Williams’ judgments are very useful if you’re willing to do a deep dive into the material. His thesis is that Dylan is a performer who can be as rewarding in concert as on record. Williams is a careful listener, but he can be overly generous, his devotion to the legendarily self-indulgent and unwatchable four-hour movie “Renaldo and Clara” is inexplicable and his takes on concert tours/tapes are a service to history if not always to readers who don’t have access to the material. Still, he was among the best Dylan commentators.

(There’s a final volume, from 2004, covering only 1986-1990, which I suspect will prove the least of the three and get bogged down in Never Ending Tour concert examinations. I hope to read that in 2019: There’s only four albums, one of them live, in that period.)

Look for my annual column in a few days about the books I read in the year past. I’ll also post the list of titles on this blog, which will be the best spot for you to comment on your own year in reading if you choose.

As for when and where the books above were acquired, the Dylan was bought in 1993 at Rasputin’s Music in Berkeley, the Joplin from Book Alley in Pasadena in 2002 and the Valens in October (talk about a leap forward in time) via Amazon Marketplace. It’s a former (I hope!) library copy.

Next month: “Counter Intelligence” and more.

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Restaurant of the Week: Broken Yolk

Broken Yolk, 2488 Foothill Blvd. (at Towne Center), La Verne; open 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. daily, to 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday

A San Diego-based chain, Broken Yolk opened up in La Verne in October in the Target center. I’d never heard of it — Broken Yolk, not Target — but decided to give it a spin recently, meeting a friend for lunch.

It’s breakfast and lunch (and weekend brunch) only at the Yolk, a mid-sized coffee shop. Apparently weekend crowds are intense, but for a weekday lunch, seating was no problem.

The chain is known for big portions, like four-egg omelets and large pancakes, as well as French toast made with Hawaiian bread. The menu can be seen here.

My friend got breakfast: the Ranchero skillet ($12.45), with chorizo, serrano peppers, two (not four) eggs, avocado and potatoes. He liked it. “It’s breakfast,” he said matter-of-factly. “It can be messed up, but they didn’t.”

I got lunch: a tuna melt ($12) on sourdough with sweet potato fries. Other side options are fries, onion rings, potato salad and broccoli slaw. (Calorie counts would point to the latter as the healthiest choice at 60 calories, but my choice was second-best at 240. Also, I don’t think I could bear to order broccoli slaw.)

Careful readers of this blog may recall that the tuna melt is my baseline sandwich, the one I’m likeliest to pick at an unfamiliar restaurant if it’s on the menu. This was an above-average version, fresh and with jack cheese.

People on Yelp seem inordinately gripey about the wait times for weekend breakfast, making me wonder if they’ve ever gone out for breakfast before. Drive past BC Cafe on a weekend morning and you’ll glimpse one or two dozen would-be patrons scattered out on the lawn waiting for a table inside to open.

Anyway, Broken Yolk’s got a varied menu, service was attentive and the food is pretty good. Despite the name, I’ll bet they will give you an egg sunny side up if you ask.

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Column: Judge’s ruling on his hometown: He loves it

Judge Robert Dukes outside Pomona Superior Court in Pomona on Monday, December 3, 2018. Judge Dukes retired in November after 31 years on the bench in Pomona. (Photo by Watchara Phomicinda, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

I’ve known Robert Dukes mostly to say hello to, but I sat down with the newly retired Pomona Superior Court judge to talk about one of my favorite topics and his: the old days. That’s my Wednesday column.

 

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