JOKE OF THE DAY:
GIRL: Hey, I finally trapped that feral cat I’ve been feeding and took her to get spayed.
BOY: That’s great. I know you’ve been working on this for months.
GIRL: Yeah, well, it turns out she had already been spayed.
BOY: I have a cat like that.

And now, to continue with my year-by-year break-down of important Brave Combo events. Geez, this is taking forever! I wish I’d written everything on just one calendar per year. Anyway, we’ve covered the first decade and a half and now we’re up to the mid-1990s. Enjoy!

1996
Release KISS OF FIRE (with Lauren Agnelli) on Watermelon Records.
Greg Beck replaces Alan Emert on drums.
BC’s recording of “The Hokey Pokey” performed by Chuck E. Cheese robot bands worldwide.
POLKAS FOR A GLOOMY WORLD is nominated for a Grammy.
Perform with polka royalty, Eddie Blazonczyk, Jr. (concertina) at Accordion Kings Festival in Houston.
Finally release the album, GIRL (with Tiny Tim) on Rounder Records.
Release MOOD SWING MUSIC (oddball BC compilation) on Rounder Records.
Perform for Midsummer Night’s Swing dance/concert series at Lincoln Center (New York City).
Perform on LONESOME PINE SPECIAL national radio program with Tiny Tim.
Perform at the Grand Emporium in Kansas City with Tiny Tim.
Perform at Bumbershoot Festival in Seattle with Tiny Tim (our last time to see him).
1997
Work with Olympic ice dancers, Punsalon and Swallow, on music for their upcoming competitions.
Release GROUP DANCE EPIDEMIC on Rounder
Perform at legendary Ash Grove Club on the Santa Monica Pier, right outside Los Angeles.
Matt Groening throws party for Brave Combo at his house, invites SIMPSONS voices.
Northeast tour yields shows at Chautauqua, National Geographic (D.C.) and The Bottom Line (NYC)
1998
Accordion genius, Joe Oberaitis sits in with Brave Combo at performance in Orlando.
Alan Emert (Big Al) returns on drums.
Release POLKA PARTY (live compilation) on Rounder subsidiary, Easydisc.
Perform at The Simpsons’ 200th episode party at House of Blues in Hollywood.
Perform at Roskilde Festival outside of Copenhagen, Denmark.
Tour Sweden with an add-on date in northern Finland, just 50 miles from the Arctic Circle.
Perform at Midem Latin Music Conference in Miami.
1999
Perform at Pillar’s Polkabration Festival at Mohegan Sun Casino in Connecticut.
A&R legend and fierce polka defender, Steve Popovich, comes on board.
Release POLKASONIC on Cleveland International Records, home of Meatloaf’s BAT OUT OF HELL.
POLKASONIC is nominated for a Grammy.
Tour The Netherlands, including a date in the remote northern Friezland.
Big Ol’ Y2K New Year’s Eve Party for Trammel Crow in Dallas. Nothing weird happens at midnight.

Okay, that wraps up the 90s and, again, it’s really hard to boil this down to something digestible. There are so many unmentioned truck stops and motels and shows in myriad disparate places like Tampa, Salt Lake City, both Portlands, Atlanta, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Albuquerque, Nashville, even Texarkana, my hometown. By this point Brave Combo had licensed many songs to be used in movies and on television. Real, honest-to-God, royalty checks were coming in at a regular pace. We also seemed to be a favorite with independent movie-makers, including the well-received, Sundance-featured, LATE BLOOMERS, by Gretchen and Julia Dyer. We actually appear in that movie, performing at a wedding reception. You should check it out.

SEE YA, HARVEY. I believe I was aware of Harvey Pekar and his ground-breaking comic book, AMERICAN SPLENDOR, before his infamous appearances on LATE NIGHT WITH DAVID LETTERMAN, but, like many fans, those cringe-worthy interviews, when he was being as ornery with Dave as anyone ever has, galvanized my interest in his work. Plus my aunt and uncle (Elaine and G.W. Finch) worked at he same VA hospital in Cleveland where Harvey was a file clerk. Lots of stories in his books were about conversations he had with other regular folks at that hospital, like the janitors, secretaries, delivery people and night watchmen. Harvey’s little tales hit something deep in me that I still can’t explain. I’m not that great at remembering many details even, but his mood and vibe resonated so well that it was pretty easy to get to know Harvey right away. And, indeed, Brave Combo did actually get to know Harvey and his wife, Joyce, as it turned out. I don’t think they’ve missed a Cleveland show in the last four or five years and Harvey recently included us in an AMERICAN SPLENDOR story about clutter. He even danced to our groovy rhythms a few times. That was shocking to see in for so many reasons, but it happened. He especially appreciated Jeff and Danny and how they were able to improvise within the context of polka. He was always pushing us to expand that side of the band; to become more improvisationally experimental. Also, he had a lot of respect for the old klezmer players around the country, obviously understanding that that’s a world where the polka beat meets a soloist’s unlimited opportunity to stretch out and play anything he or she wants, for as long as he or she wants. Polka music and klezmer music and the all the jazz styles Harvey so loved were and are about working class people being expressive; looking for music for music’s sake and trying to find the essence of something. It rarely has much to do with being rich and fashionable and having a hit record. As Jeff once said, “Harvey’s bullshit detector is always on high,” or something like that. I remember one time we’d had a great night at our favorite Cleveland club, The Beachland Ballroom, and the happy crowd called us back to the stage for a couple of encores; something all performers want to happen. But, as we were saying goodnight to Harvey and Joyce, Harvey asked me how I could stand that. I asked him what he meant and he said that the audience was being so selfish, cause we had played two long sets. To ask us for more was just manipulation on the audience’s part, taking advantage of us, and he didn’t know why that didn’t bother me. I think he was also sleepy and probably wanted to go home an hour earlier, but his displeasure with the unruly fans seemed sincere. All I know is that one time, about 15 years ago, we pulled into Cleveland to play a gig and at a gas stop, before we got to the club, I looked in the Cleveland phone book for Harvey’s name and number and there it was. I called and he answered and immediately had me talk to Joyce. They couldn’t make it that night, but, oddly enough, Joyce’s sister had seen us in Chicago the night before and recommended that she and Harvey check us out. Eventually they became an integral part of our trips to Cleveland. In fact, we were at The Beachland just weeks ago, hanging out backstage, as usual, with Harvey and Joyce. They both looked great. I heard earlier in the evening that Harvey hadn’t been feeling well, but he looked great that night, smiling and full of ideas and advice for Brave Combo. Then, without warning, a week later, at 70 years old, he was dead. Harvey was gone. He and his enthusiasm for music will be seriously missed. Right now there’s a pretty big void on this planet. I wish for Harvey, peace, comfort, doughnuts and a good long look at that final piece of the puzzle. He may not have to come back again.

I ordered a new accordion. When one breaks I just buy a new one, it seems. I own about ten broken accordions now. That’s ridiculous, but it’s a fact. I hope the new accordion arrives in good shape and kicks ass. This means I’ll get a new accordion case, too, which is just about as thrilling.

THE SHOW MUST GO ON. My mother passed away in June and now Harvey Pekar has left the auditorium, as well. It’s been an intense couple of months, but the music, apparently, continues. Our new CD, KIKIRIKI (pronounced kee kee ree kee, with the accent on the “ree”), is up and running and I’m glad about that. You will be, too. My recommendation is that you buy several copies ASAP, since you never know when someone might need to hear one. We’ve been shooting several odd videos and plan to host several release parties around the country in the next few months. So, check our itinerary often and thoroughly. Imagine the possibilities. Feed the hunger. Turn off and turn back on. Repeat. The power may not always be with you, but it’s around somewhere.

LIFE GOES ON, AND OTHER CLICHES. A train is wailing in the distance. It’s a sound that comes with the territory if you live anywhere near downtown Denton. It especially cuts through the night air. And to no one’s surprise it’s a lonely sound; one that represents something moving on, not staying in one place; rolling down the track, literally, into the darkness; into the unknown. My mother died a week ago and was laid to rest today next to my father, in a cemetery crypt, right outside their beloved Texarkana, Texas. Her name was Emma Finch. She was 84. About a year after my father died, which was in 2004, she moved to swinging Denton and lived just blocks from Jane and me in a groovy duplex for seniors until the need for 24-hour care took over. She and her cat, Moushie, then dutifully moved to a nifty assisted-living apartment and everything was sorta cool (but also getting progressively sadder and scarier) for about seven months. Then one morning she had a massive stroke and everything changed dramatically and quickly. That was in early February of this year. In a matter of minutes, or rather, seconds, she lost use of her right side, and could no longer speak or swallow. Although Mother had left a clear directive that a feeding tube was a no-no, there was a chance that using one temporarily might help her build up the strength to re-learn how to swallow, at least. My father even did it once. But Mother was just too damaged by the stroke and after four and a half months of hanging on to almost nothing, she finally had to let go. Being one of her only two children (myself and my brother, Jim), this kind of thing makes me think a lot about a lot of things. I already think too much, even on normal days when nothing particularly life-altering is happening. But it doesn’t matter what I think right now. Today was about her and I believe she would have enjoyed it. A surprising number of folks showed up, including several of her still-quite feisty friends, some older than she was. All in all it was a pretty “up” event and everyone hung around so long at the cemetery that bouncers finally had to be brought in to clear the area so Mother could be sealed away. And I think she would have been on the side of the cemetery here. When the party is over, it’s over and time to move on. She always preferred a casual, hassle-free approach to everything; a no-nonsense “get it done and move on” kind of person. She loved Brave Combo, but if success and prosperity hadn’t been part of the BC picture I’m not sure our music would have been enough to sustain that love. Both parents tolerated my creative ambitions way back to my first rock band in the seventh grade. I wouldn’t say they were always encouraging beyond the weekly piano lessons early in my life, but they never, ever got in the way. They trusted me, almost never questioned what or why, and just let me do my thing. They rarely complained when I would record late at night in my room at home and would buy or help me buy guitars and amps and stuff. A similar thing happened with my brother. When he was in high school he started hanging out at the local TV station. It could be anytime, day or night, didn’t matter to Mother and Daddy. In fact, we were both pretty good kids and actually could be trusted to use the best judgment teenagers could muster. So, I guess it all worked out, except that the two people who brought me into this world are both gone; riding that train into the unknown. Now what?