Tuesday, September 25, 2012
All Things Must Pass...
…Or so George Harrison said. Ladies and Gentlemen of the No-Star Nation, it truly is the end of an era. Gregg Juke & The Mighty No-Stars, as we have all come to know and love them, will soon cease to exist. We have weathered close to a decade together as a band, we’ve been through more members in the rhythm-section during that time than I’d like to count, and we’ve endured highs and lows over the last several years that include several personal tragedies and the death of our beloved founding bassist Joel Thomas.
All the while, Bruce, Brett, Tony, and myself have tried to stay true to ourselves, our vision, and the Blues and Roots music we all love, while entertaining you with the best that we could give you from the bottom of our hearts. I’d like to thank the guys for that—playing in this band has been one of the high-lights of my musical life! I’d also like to thank Susan, our business manager/agent/aide-de-camp and den mother, for all of the work that she has put in over the years to keep us out there and to keep you, the public informed on what we’ve been up to. We all gave our best. The truth is that our best efforts in this case weren’t enough; there were one too many tragedies and one too many years of economic downturn. We also find ourselves at very different places in our lives—some with grown children, others still in the midst of raising theirs, and some with very young families who really need the time to pour into their own kids.
This doesn’t necessarily mean the end of Gregg Juke & The Mighty No-Stars forever, it’s just the end of an incredible era that I wouldn’t give up having been a part of for anything. But it does mean that the live performing unit will be taking a hiatus; perhaps a very long one, and when and if it returns, it’s likely that the band will look quite a bit different. We will all still be involved in music, so look for Bret and Tony out on the scene, and make sure you say “hi.” Bruce will be a featured guitarist with one of Western New York’s premier country bands, West of the Mark. And I will continue to be Gregg Juke, there’s no getting around that! So the studio will still be in full-operating mode, and once I get my hands back (I’ll be taking some time to have carpal-tunnel surgery on both wrists), you’ll not only see me singing and playing harp out there, but I hope also playing more drums and percussion again as well. I’m also getting back into DJ’ing, so I suspect that I’ll see many of you out and about in the WNY area. We will be finishing the long-awaited second album, and will still plan a full-scale international release (we owe it to our fans, ourselves, and to Joel). But the economic and scheduling realities are such that the current live band line-up can’t continue in the way that we’ve all grown accustomed to, so no tour at this time, and no local gigs either. We may be able to get together from time to time for some performances, but for now it looks like our last regular gig will be this Friday the 28th of September at Vizzi’s in Kenmore. The website and this blog will be maintained, both as a place to keep you all updated on recording activities, and on my personal musical exploits and adventures in general. Nocturnal Productions/Blue Buffalo Records will continue, and we will most likely be looking to expand our artist roster and broaden our focus. There is a lot of local talent that deserves recognition and promotion on a larger scale. We also expect to be more involved in concert and special event promotion and production; watch for up-coming events with some of WNY’s premier Blues and Roots acts.
Those of you who have stuck with us all these years, that have been the greatest fans any band could hope for (you know who you are), we are so grateful and thankful to have been able to play for you all of this time, and we hope to do it again. I’d like to thank all of the members of the band that have come and gone; it has been a pleasure and a learning experience in one way or another working with all of you. I’d also like to thank all of those that took an interest in helping us out when we first came on the scene as a group so long ago—none of us green or new to music in the area, but all of us new as a unit and new as a musical commodity to many of you, and your support has meant so much—people like Paul Madsen at Alternative Brews, Joanne back at the old Tap Room, and musicians like the late Jimmy Wozniak, Donna Rose, and Jack Civiletto, who selflessly gave of their time, and shared a little stage space, with some hungry young guns (well, not so young, and less so now, but young-ish, and definitely hungry!). Many of you also supported us as we sought to use our talents in support of those in need. Thank you again for all that you did to help those served by the charities that we have worked with over the years, and especially for those that helped when our dear friend Joel needed it the most. You are awesome people.
This is a time of transition. None of us knows exactly what the future holds. But that’s what makes it exciting, too. Stick around, I’m sure the best is yet to come. In the meantime, if you want to catch the band live, I’d say get out to Vizzi’s on Friday the 28th; don’t say we didn’t warn you! From myself, Bruce, Tony, Bret, and Susan (and I’m sure from Joel as well), thank you all for giving us the opportunity to play the Blues for you. We hope we’ve given you something back in return.
Until Then, God Bless & Good Blues,
GJ
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Another Eulogy in Blue
**Note-- We're having a little trouble posting the song discussed at the bottom. Check back soon; we'll get the audio up as soon as possible.
A few weeks ago, we laid to rest a few good men, one of them a dear friend and brother whom I’ve known for almost 30 years (!). That means that some of our other mutual friends (Bruce, Paul, Guy, and others) have known him longer than that—it boggles the mind. One minute a person is here, the next, they are gone, and it is always a bit of a surprise and a shock, regardless of whether there was a long illness involved or if we should have “seen it coming.” For those reasons, and due to the business and issues of life which are on-going, it took me awhile to get some cogent thoughts together in tribute—I needed a little time to process on my own. Grief is that way; as someone very wisely once shared with me— “Grief is a process, it is not an event.” So as we pay tribute to dear friends, I hope that you will share in the fond memories, as well as drink fully from the cathartic well of sadness, for grief, like it or not, will manifest itself in the most unhealthy and inappropriate of ways if left unattended… This I can attest to from personal experience.
The Book of Joel (December 10th, 1957-April 23rd, 2012)
Much has already been written and spoken about Joel Thomas, so much that it would be tempting to assume that “it’s all been said already.” But nothing would be further from the truth—We all experience each other in our own ways as we move through this world together, and it is the shared knowledge and perspective of good interactions with others that are a part of our real legacy, and are evidence of our understanding of true Wisdom (which literally means “The ability to live life successfully and well”). Joel Thomas was one of the wisest men that I have ever met.
Joel and I (and Tracy) met a long time ago, when we were younger musicians who were just starting to come into our own. Joel and another former bandmate recruited myself and a friend for an ill-fated project that, after months of rehearsals, only lasted for a few gigs as a working unit, before the volatile personalities involved imploded beyond repair. I’m surprised that we weren’t all hospitalized with actual shrapnel wounds. No matter; it was an interesting experience, and I got an opportunity to meet Joel! From there, we got to know each other, and many of the musicians and circle of friends that were there at that time have become life-long associates and dear friends in their own right. Joel and I have worked together on and off on many different projects over the years since that time. Most recently, Joel was our founding bassist and anchor (in more ways than one) for Gregg Juke & The Mighty No-Stars, as well as the catalyst for the annual Christmas concerts at Hess Road Wesleyan Church that have become so much a part of our band and family traditions.
Through the years, I watched Joel continue to grow and develop as a husband, father, musician, business person, animal advocate, conservationist, educator, sportsman, school board administrator, and author. Joel truly was a smart and well-informed person, with a keen and analytical mind. If you needed some perspective or insight on something, or just wanted someone to research a topic for you until you felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information he was able to aggregate, Joel was your man. But that’s not what I mean by “wisdom.” And Joel understood the difference between a grasp of factual knowledge and true wisdom.
In music, Joel’s concise conception and organized intellect combined with the more earthy and right-brained aspects of his personality to express themselves in an economy of notes that spoke almost literal volumes. As a bass-player, Joel was a drummer’s (and band-leader’s) dream. I remember this from my own years behind the kit, but if you don’t believe me, you can ask people like Bret Norvilitis, Paul Warner, or Bill O’Shea—Joel knew how to lock it down, leave space for the singer or lead instrumentalist, and to create a pocket as deep as the Grand Canyon and a backbeat as big as Texas. He was also fearless— just ask the snakes, hawks, monkeys, and other large woodland creatures he spent his days wrestling with. One time we had a little scare when Joel called me at the last minute to say that he might not make a gig. Even an experienced and consummate professional can make mistakes, and Joel was working with a red-tailed hawk that he had been training when he let his guard down and was attacked, by an animal that can exert thousands of pounds of pressure with its talons, which also happen to be razor sharp. The bird just missed Joel’s eye socket; while he said that he would be alright, he thought that he might need some rest, and that he looked way too ugly to be on stage anyway. In the end, he showed-up for the gig, and I mentioned that he didn’t look too bad at all. With a wry smile, he told me that his wife was much more than a competent make-up artist. Fearless indeed, and when necessary he could apply this fearlessness to new heights of musical exploration. And while Joel had a lot of musical knowledge, I’m sure that he would tell you himself that he had less facility than a lot of other players on his main instrument of choice, a musical limitation that we shared, and one through which Joel often inspired me. This never seemed to hold him back, as he knew how to “let go”—a Joel Thomas bass solo was a wonder to behold and a treat to discerning ears that will be sorely missed here in Western New York. But that’s only a glimpse into the special wisdom I saw in Joel.
We grew closer over the last decade as we shared almost eight years together in the same band, doing other gigs and performances as well, even being on TV together a handful of times. Once, when he made another rookie mistake, rare for a media-savvy personality like Joel—he left his cell-phone on while we were on a TV interview program, and of course, it rang! Joel had a dry wit and a great sense of humor, and of course he made a superb recovery. Over the years, we learned that we shared not only a bit of an “out there” sense of humor, but a common faith as well. And that is perhaps the secret to Joel’s grace, his “ability to live life successfully and well.”
When Joel was diagnosed with ALS (“Lou Gehrig’s Disease”), he met the challenge head-on. He had been having trouble for almost a year, and when a planned neck surgery did not produce the relief and muscle strength that had been hoped for, a group of friends (who are amazing! you know who you are) sent him out to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. We were all hoping for a different diagnosis, but the doctors there confirmed what local experts had already told him. Regardless, Joel continued to fight, continued to serve the Lord and to serve other people, to serve the animal population he loved so dearly; he finished his book, he played in the No-Stars for as long as he possibly could, and he continued to be the great husband, father, brother, and friend that he had always been. Joel met his end with the peace that comes from knowing what you know, an unshakable and unwavering faith that does not ignore negative circumstances, it rises above and beyond them. Every time I saw Joel in the last several months, he was still upbeat, funny, and had a smile on his face, even though he had more than an ample share of the stuff that can steal one’s joy and could lead to despair. If Joel had given up and rolled over, no one would have blamed him, but instead, he showed us all what real courage is—it is not ignoring dangerous or challenging situations and circumstances, it is choosing to act in an admirable way in spite of them.
When Joel finally become critically ill, and was hospitalized and then moved on to hospice, we all began to prepare ourselves for the worst. But then he rallied, and it looked like he might be going back to his house for awhile. We all hoped that he’d be going home, but he went Home instead. We will miss him, but we shall see him again. “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?… Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ… When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written—Death is swallowed up in victory” (I Corinthians chapter 15). And therein lies Joel’s strength, and I think the source of his wisdom too. When you know that you have already won the war, the individual battles lose some of their intensity. I think that Joel would have preferred to stay here with his family and friends, I know that I would have preferred that; but as he saw eternity approaching, he recognized a better deal. And there is wisdom in that decision as well.
The Book of Peter (October 18th, 1971-April 15th, 2012)
I did not know Peter Weisenburger beyond his reputation as a great musician and wonderful family man. But I do know his brother, Paul, and I had an opportunity to meet his parents, and because of this, I’m sure that Peter was one amazing guy—his pedigree is above reproach. If he was one-tenth the person his brother is, then he was undeniably a good man; a rare enough quality in and of itself these days. Peter made a name for himself in the theater as an actor, director, and drama teacher. He taught at the high school as well as collegiate level, and has played stages from Buffalo to the West Coast—he and his wife Merritt spent several years in Seattle working in experimental theater there. It is beyond comprehension to lose one such creative and talented person so young; to lose two in so short a time is a devastation that cannot be described in words (regardless of my vain attempt to do just that above).
Peter and Joel will be missed. While the world is talking about the passing of the likes of Levon Helm, Whitney Houston, Dick Clark, Etta James, Donna Summer, Davy Jones, Robin Gibb, and Duck Dunn, our little corner of the universe will be thinking about Joel Thomas and Peter Weisenburger, and how they meant so much more to us than rock stars ever could—they were “life stars;” prime examples of the impact that one person can make in other people’s lives, if they are only willing to take the time. Their legacies are the people that they each touched, which were many—I don’t know when I saw as many people at a wake or a funeral as I did at the events held for Joel and Peter. If each of us could do our best to emulate the example that these two men have left for us, the world would truly be a better place. As Pastor Joe encouraged us all, let’s make sure that the baton does not fall to the ground, and that the torch doesn’t go out. Pass it on, pay it forward. We can, in good conscience, do no less.
After Joel passed, I wrote a song, as I often do; it is a way that I have of dealing with this sort of thing. It was still a little too fresh to even contemplate singing it at the funeral, but I humbly present it here as a tribute to both Joel and Peter, and their immense legacy. The lyrics are perhaps self-explanatory, but in the face of such tragedies, I know that many people, including myself, will want to know “Why?” While we can never fully know or understand the answer on this side of eternity, it’s important to acknowledge both the question, and the One who knows the answer. Joel and Peter taught us how to Stand. We must not ignore their lessons for us.
Please receive this “standard disclaimer” in the spirit that it is given; but there was a bit of a rush to get the song documented, and at the time, I’d only been playing the ukulele for a few days (I’ve got almost three weeks or more under my belt by now!). The lyrics appear below.
Please fell free to leave remembrances, whether humorous or serious, in the comments section below that. Let’s make this a place to celebrate the impact that Joel and Peter have had on those of us who are still among the earthbound.
Stand © 2012 All Rights Reserved
V1.
How many times must I wonder?
If it will all turn out the same?
How many times must I hunger?
And still see it all go down the drain?
Pre-Ch.
Sometimes I don’t think You care about me
And I’ve had enough
But then I wanna throw the “doubt” right outta me
Not quit just because it gets rough
Chorus
I’m gonna Stand by You
Hold up my hand to You
I don’t understand All You Do
But I’m gonna Stand by You
V2.
How many times must we lose them?
Before we understand what’s wrong?
And how many times must we tell them?
And sing the same old tired song?
Pre-Ch.
Sometimes I don’t think You care about me
And I’ve had enough
But then I wanna throw the “doubt” right outta me
Not quit just because it gets rough
Chorus
I’m gonna Stand by You
Hold up my hand to You
I don’t understand All You Do
But I’m gonna Stand by You
A few weeks ago, we laid to rest a few good men, one of them a dear friend and brother whom I’ve known for almost 30 years (!). That means that some of our other mutual friends (Bruce, Paul, Guy, and others) have known him longer than that—it boggles the mind. One minute a person is here, the next, they are gone, and it is always a bit of a surprise and a shock, regardless of whether there was a long illness involved or if we should have “seen it coming.” For those reasons, and due to the business and issues of life which are on-going, it took me awhile to get some cogent thoughts together in tribute—I needed a little time to process on my own. Grief is that way; as someone very wisely once shared with me— “Grief is a process, it is not an event.” So as we pay tribute to dear friends, I hope that you will share in the fond memories, as well as drink fully from the cathartic well of sadness, for grief, like it or not, will manifest itself in the most unhealthy and inappropriate of ways if left unattended… This I can attest to from personal experience.
The Book of Joel (December 10th, 1957-April 23rd, 2012)
Much has already been written and spoken about Joel Thomas, so much that it would be tempting to assume that “it’s all been said already.” But nothing would be further from the truth—We all experience each other in our own ways as we move through this world together, and it is the shared knowledge and perspective of good interactions with others that are a part of our real legacy, and are evidence of our understanding of true Wisdom (which literally means “The ability to live life successfully and well”). Joel Thomas was one of the wisest men that I have ever met.
Joel and I (and Tracy) met a long time ago, when we were younger musicians who were just starting to come into our own. Joel and another former bandmate recruited myself and a friend for an ill-fated project that, after months of rehearsals, only lasted for a few gigs as a working unit, before the volatile personalities involved imploded beyond repair. I’m surprised that we weren’t all hospitalized with actual shrapnel wounds. No matter; it was an interesting experience, and I got an opportunity to meet Joel! From there, we got to know each other, and many of the musicians and circle of friends that were there at that time have become life-long associates and dear friends in their own right. Joel and I have worked together on and off on many different projects over the years since that time. Most recently, Joel was our founding bassist and anchor (in more ways than one) for Gregg Juke & The Mighty No-Stars, as well as the catalyst for the annual Christmas concerts at Hess Road Wesleyan Church that have become so much a part of our band and family traditions.
Through the years, I watched Joel continue to grow and develop as a husband, father, musician, business person, animal advocate, conservationist, educator, sportsman, school board administrator, and author. Joel truly was a smart and well-informed person, with a keen and analytical mind. If you needed some perspective or insight on something, or just wanted someone to research a topic for you until you felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information he was able to aggregate, Joel was your man. But that’s not what I mean by “wisdom.” And Joel understood the difference between a grasp of factual knowledge and true wisdom.
In music, Joel’s concise conception and organized intellect combined with the more earthy and right-brained aspects of his personality to express themselves in an economy of notes that spoke almost literal volumes. As a bass-player, Joel was a drummer’s (and band-leader’s) dream. I remember this from my own years behind the kit, but if you don’t believe me, you can ask people like Bret Norvilitis, Paul Warner, or Bill O’Shea—Joel knew how to lock it down, leave space for the singer or lead instrumentalist, and to create a pocket as deep as the Grand Canyon and a backbeat as big as Texas. He was also fearless— just ask the snakes, hawks, monkeys, and other large woodland creatures he spent his days wrestling with. One time we had a little scare when Joel called me at the last minute to say that he might not make a gig. Even an experienced and consummate professional can make mistakes, and Joel was working with a red-tailed hawk that he had been training when he let his guard down and was attacked, by an animal that can exert thousands of pounds of pressure with its talons, which also happen to be razor sharp. The bird just missed Joel’s eye socket; while he said that he would be alright, he thought that he might need some rest, and that he looked way too ugly to be on stage anyway. In the end, he showed-up for the gig, and I mentioned that he didn’t look too bad at all. With a wry smile, he told me that his wife was much more than a competent make-up artist. Fearless indeed, and when necessary he could apply this fearlessness to new heights of musical exploration. And while Joel had a lot of musical knowledge, I’m sure that he would tell you himself that he had less facility than a lot of other players on his main instrument of choice, a musical limitation that we shared, and one through which Joel often inspired me. This never seemed to hold him back, as he knew how to “let go”—a Joel Thomas bass solo was a wonder to behold and a treat to discerning ears that will be sorely missed here in Western New York. But that’s only a glimpse into the special wisdom I saw in Joel.
We grew closer over the last decade as we shared almost eight years together in the same band, doing other gigs and performances as well, even being on TV together a handful of times. Once, when he made another rookie mistake, rare for a media-savvy personality like Joel—he left his cell-phone on while we were on a TV interview program, and of course, it rang! Joel had a dry wit and a great sense of humor, and of course he made a superb recovery. Over the years, we learned that we shared not only a bit of an “out there” sense of humor, but a common faith as well. And that is perhaps the secret to Joel’s grace, his “ability to live life successfully and well.”
When Joel was diagnosed with ALS (“Lou Gehrig’s Disease”), he met the challenge head-on. He had been having trouble for almost a year, and when a planned neck surgery did not produce the relief and muscle strength that had been hoped for, a group of friends (who are amazing! you know who you are) sent him out to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. We were all hoping for a different diagnosis, but the doctors there confirmed what local experts had already told him. Regardless, Joel continued to fight, continued to serve the Lord and to serve other people, to serve the animal population he loved so dearly; he finished his book, he played in the No-Stars for as long as he possibly could, and he continued to be the great husband, father, brother, and friend that he had always been. Joel met his end with the peace that comes from knowing what you know, an unshakable and unwavering faith that does not ignore negative circumstances, it rises above and beyond them. Every time I saw Joel in the last several months, he was still upbeat, funny, and had a smile on his face, even though he had more than an ample share of the stuff that can steal one’s joy and could lead to despair. If Joel had given up and rolled over, no one would have blamed him, but instead, he showed us all what real courage is—it is not ignoring dangerous or challenging situations and circumstances, it is choosing to act in an admirable way in spite of them.
When Joel finally become critically ill, and was hospitalized and then moved on to hospice, we all began to prepare ourselves for the worst. But then he rallied, and it looked like he might be going back to his house for awhile. We all hoped that he’d be going home, but he went Home instead. We will miss him, but we shall see him again. “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?… Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ… When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written—Death is swallowed up in victory” (I Corinthians chapter 15). And therein lies Joel’s strength, and I think the source of his wisdom too. When you know that you have already won the war, the individual battles lose some of their intensity. I think that Joel would have preferred to stay here with his family and friends, I know that I would have preferred that; but as he saw eternity approaching, he recognized a better deal. And there is wisdom in that decision as well.
The Book of Peter (October 18th, 1971-April 15th, 2012)
I did not know Peter Weisenburger beyond his reputation as a great musician and wonderful family man. But I do know his brother, Paul, and I had an opportunity to meet his parents, and because of this, I’m sure that Peter was one amazing guy—his pedigree is above reproach. If he was one-tenth the person his brother is, then he was undeniably a good man; a rare enough quality in and of itself these days. Peter made a name for himself in the theater as an actor, director, and drama teacher. He taught at the high school as well as collegiate level, and has played stages from Buffalo to the West Coast—he and his wife Merritt spent several years in Seattle working in experimental theater there. It is beyond comprehension to lose one such creative and talented person so young; to lose two in so short a time is a devastation that cannot be described in words (regardless of my vain attempt to do just that above).
Peter and Joel will be missed. While the world is talking about the passing of the likes of Levon Helm, Whitney Houston, Dick Clark, Etta James, Donna Summer, Davy Jones, Robin Gibb, and Duck Dunn, our little corner of the universe will be thinking about Joel Thomas and Peter Weisenburger, and how they meant so much more to us than rock stars ever could—they were “life stars;” prime examples of the impact that one person can make in other people’s lives, if they are only willing to take the time. Their legacies are the people that they each touched, which were many—I don’t know when I saw as many people at a wake or a funeral as I did at the events held for Joel and Peter. If each of us could do our best to emulate the example that these two men have left for us, the world would truly be a better place. As Pastor Joe encouraged us all, let’s make sure that the baton does not fall to the ground, and that the torch doesn’t go out. Pass it on, pay it forward. We can, in good conscience, do no less.
After Joel passed, I wrote a song, as I often do; it is a way that I have of dealing with this sort of thing. It was still a little too fresh to even contemplate singing it at the funeral, but I humbly present it here as a tribute to both Joel and Peter, and their immense legacy. The lyrics are perhaps self-explanatory, but in the face of such tragedies, I know that many people, including myself, will want to know “Why?” While we can never fully know or understand the answer on this side of eternity, it’s important to acknowledge both the question, and the One who knows the answer. Joel and Peter taught us how to Stand. We must not ignore their lessons for us.
Please receive this “standard disclaimer” in the spirit that it is given; but there was a bit of a rush to get the song documented, and at the time, I’d only been playing the ukulele for a few days (I’ve got almost three weeks or more under my belt by now!). The lyrics appear below.
Please fell free to leave remembrances, whether humorous or serious, in the comments section below that. Let’s make this a place to celebrate the impact that Joel and Peter have had on those of us who are still among the earthbound.
Stand © 2012 All Rights Reserved
V1.
How many times must I wonder?
If it will all turn out the same?
How many times must I hunger?
And still see it all go down the drain?
Pre-Ch.
Sometimes I don’t think You care about me
And I’ve had enough
But then I wanna throw the “doubt” right outta me
Not quit just because it gets rough
Chorus
I’m gonna Stand by You
Hold up my hand to You
I don’t understand All You Do
But I’m gonna Stand by You
V2.
How many times must we lose them?
Before we understand what’s wrong?
And how many times must we tell them?
And sing the same old tired song?
Pre-Ch.
Sometimes I don’t think You care about me
And I’ve had enough
But then I wanna throw the “doubt” right outta me
Not quit just because it gets rough
Chorus
I’m gonna Stand by You
Hold up my hand to You
I don’t understand All You Do
But I’m gonna Stand by You
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