(Copyright 2003 The Blacklisted Journalist)


Subject: Hello Al. "School For Fools" my blues w/Levon helm, Johnnie Johnson
Date: Thu, 21 Nov 2002 16:56:33 EST

Hello Al Aronowitz. I just heard about the possibility of emailing you and grabbed the opportunity to contact you.

Over the years I have read countless articles of yours. I am 44, was born in Nov 58. Oh, my name is Jeff Alexander.  Your articles were frequently informative, and opened up new avenues of music or thought for me to explore, sometimes commentary on our culture or society as well. Other times interesting reporting about events i was familiar with. Sometimes, because I read them years After they were published, an interesting introduction to a piece of music, etc.

So thanks for all the great writing!

Something tells me you will happy to read about my blues project. "School For fools, Songs of Jeff Alexander" is 12 original blues and rhythm and blues of mine. I enlisted Levon Helm to play drums, and former Blues Brother frontman Larry Thurston, to sing lead vocals. Johnnie Johnson guests on piano on 2. Members of the Jimmy Rogers, Albert King, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Shemekia Copeland bands figure prominently in the recording.

As of now it is only available through my website, cd,, cd and a handful of record stores. 

I would be happy to send you a complimentary copy. If you would like contact me back with a mailing address. For verification my website is  

Hope to hear from you.

Best Wishes,
Jeff Alexander
Cousin Moe Music, Inc.
3901 Nostrand
Ave # 1B
Bklyn, N.Y. 11235
718 - 368-3166  cell 314 - 368 " 3418   ##

* * *


Subject: howdy...from malaysia...
Date: Wed, 23 Oct 2002 01:27:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: nor hisham kamaruzzaman <>

i have a great time reading your article about introducing bob to lennon and for that, in my book, you're my hero too. I am a thirty year old guy who recently has developed this fascination on musicians that arrived circa 65 to 72 and this includes hendrix, beach boys, beatles, dylan, bowie, zeppelin, marley, stones and pink floyd among many others. it was the most interesting time for music in modern history and you playing a part in it must have been mindblowing. every event that happened in front of you is history in the making. for that, i salute you.

muslim from Malaysia  ##

* * *


Subject: Re: URGENT
Date: Tue, 3 Dec 2002 16:25:00 EST

In a message dated 12/3/02 11:34:59 AM,  writes:

<< GARY: Do you still have that Kinky Friedman quote? I was going to use it and accidentally deleted it. I need it! >>

Hey there Al,

I sure hope this is it.........

Kinky Friedman does a column every month for the Texas Monthly magazine. The latest, not nearly as comical as most, is a little peek at Bob Dylan:

Tangled Up in Bob

We've been friends for thirty years, which is why, I suppose, everyone asks me what Bob Dylan is really like. The answer is as complicated as he is.

THIS MONTH BOB DYLAN'S LONG-AWAITED autobiography, Chronicles (Simon and Schuster), shall be released on the heels of a reissue of my old friend Larry Sloman's classic, On the Road With Bob Dylan (Three Rivers Press), so I've got an excuse to tell you about the first time I met Bob. It was the fall of 1973, and my band, the Texas Jewboys, was playing the Troubadour in Los Angeles. One night Bob walked in barefoot, wearing a white robe. Possibly he thought he was Jesus Christ or Johnny Appleseed, or maybe he'd just gotten out of the bath, but everybody definitely treated him like a god. He was friendly, cryptic, and almost shy when he was introduced to us after the show. Later, we watched from the dressing room window as he got into his limo in the alley behind the club. Willie Fong Young, our bass player, said it best at the time: "He may not have any shoes, but at least he's got a limo"

It wasn't long after that that his road manager called my road manager (who, cosmically enough, was named Dylan Ferrero). I was instructed to go out on the Santa Monica pier at midnight and meet a baby-blue 1960 Cadillac convertible that would take me to Bob. After a long, mystical journey, I wound up at the home of Roger McGuinn, the founder of the Byrds, who was to become a friend of mine even though I did make the following comment to him that night: "There is a time to live and a time to die and a time to stop listening to albums by the Byrds."

By two o'clock in the morning, I had still not seen Bob, but I did stumble upon Kris Kristofferson talking to a young groupie he'd apparently just met. Kris looked up and said, "Kinky?" Simultaneously, the girl and I responded, "Yes." Kris pointed me in the direction of the kitchen. I wandered in, and there was Bob sitting on the counter, strumming a guitar and singing a song I'd written, "Ride 'em Jewboy."

It was fashionable in the early seventies to talk long into the night about "life and life only," and Bob and I did that. I told him about my recent trip with the members of Led Zeppelin aboard the Starship, their private jet with a fireplace, and that I was particularly excited about urinating backstage next to Jimmy Page. Bob was not impressed. "They have nothing to say," he said. "You and Kris have a lot to say. You should say it." Without, he went on, using makeup and dry ice.

Later, I went off to find a drink, and when I returned, Roger was helping Bob up off the floor. "The wine's not agreeing with him," Roger said. That night, I suppose, I wasn't agreeing with him much either, but that could have been because I had a chip the size of Dallas on my shoulder. Or it could just be that time changes the river. However you look at it, it's now clear that Led Zep, like so many other acts, has been relegated to the bone orchard of nostalgia, while Bob remains a spiritual beacon in a world largely remarkable for its unwillingness to be led to the light.

Traveling and making music with Bob is a rare opportunity to see a magic messenger at work and play. In 1976 Bob asked me to join him and Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr, Allen Ginsberg, and many others as part of his Rolling Thunder Revue, which traveled across America that year leaving behind some satisfied women, some wildly enthusiastic audiences, and some brain cells that promised they'd get back to us later.

I hung out a lot with Bob after that tour, and as mesmerizing and untouchable as he seems onstage, offstage he can be extremely warm and witty. Imagine Bob and me standing in the parking lot of a seedy motel in Fort Worth at two-thirty in the morning with a redneck motel manager repeatedly asking him for his driver's license. Or picture Bob at a barbecue at my parents' house in Northwest Austin. (When my mother brought him a plate, he said, "Thanks, Mrs. Friedman. You must be very proud of your son.") I remember shopping with Bob at the famous Nudie's in North Hollywood, where he saw a rhinestone jacket embroidered with Jesus' face. "A guy ordered this a long time ago," Nudie told Bob, "but he never came back for it." "He has now," said Bob. Bob bought the jacket, wore it for one performance, and then gave it to me. The Bob Dylan Jesus Jacket promptly brought me seven years of bad luck, after which I sold it at Sotheby's. (It hung for a while in the Hard Rock Cafe in Tel Aviv.) Several years ago I caught up with Bob in New York and told him what I'd done with the jacket. He shook his head and said, "Bad move."

Speaking of jackets, I once spent a month with Bob in the village of Yelapa, off the western coast of Mexico. Although it was over 100 degrees every day, Bob never took off his heavy leather jacket. I knew he was from Minnesota, but it did seem somewhat odd, so one day on the beach I asked him about it. His answer was to tell me a story about the king of the gypsies, and how, when the king got old, all his wives and children left him. I thought at the time that Bob might be feeling a chill that few of us ever feel.

People often ask me what Bob is really like. He's naturally shy and superstitious and hates to be photographed because he believes that every picture taken of him reduces his chances of becoming an Indian when he grows up. Bob, in fact, has a lot in common with the Native American people. They both believe, for instance, that you can't own land or a waterfall or a horse. The only thing they both believe you can own is a casino. Yet Bob's been so many things in his life that it's almost impossible to pin him down. He's been a vegetarian, an Orthodox Jew, a born-again Christian, a Buddhist, a poet, a pilgrim, a picker, a boxer, a biker, a hermit, a chess player, a beekeeper, and an adult stamp collector-and almost everything, except a Republican, that a human being can possibly be when a restless soul is forever evolving toward his childhood night-light.

And, of course, he's a very funny American. I remember once when we had to book a flight at the last minute and there was nothing in first class available. When we got back to coach, there were only a few seats left and Bob found, much to his dismay, that he was seated next to an enthusiastic young female fan. "I can't believe I'm sitting next to Bob Dylan!" she screamed. Bob gazed calmly at the girl. "Pinch yourself," he said.  ##

* * *


Subject: FW: American Pride-very funny!
Date: Sat, 16 Nov 2002 14:16:38 -0500
From: "Paul McDonald"

American Pride

As we all know, the Taliban considers it a sin for a man to see a naked woman who is not his wife. So, this Saturday at 2:00 PM Eastern time all North American women are asked to walk out of their house completely naked to help weed out any neighborhood terrorists. Circling your block for one hour is recommended for this antiterrorist effort. All men are to position themselves in lawn chairs in front of their house to prove they think it's okay to see other women nude and to show support for their fellow sisters. And since the Tailban also does not approve of alcohol, a cold six-pack at your side is further proof of your anti-Taliban sentiment. The United States of America appreciates your efforts to root out terrorists and applauds your participation.


* * *


Subject: The Medicine Ball Caravan
Date: Wed, 4 Dec 2002 01:00:11

From: "M. Zuelsdorff"

Hello Al,

I just came across your "Isle of Wight Diary" while searching the net for the "Medicine Ball Caravan". I'm very much interested in this trek of freaks, especially their house band, "Stoneground," and would like to ask if there's any other published material/photos of yours or whether you could point me to other sources. 

Unfortunately, I never had the chance to meet them at a concert. I saw them only once in autumn 71 on Radio Bremen's "BEAT-WORKSHOP" - and they were absolutely great! I'll never forget this show, which was in a way more "live" than a lot of real live concerts I've been to.

Some days ago, a friend of mine made it happen to send me a photo of Stoneground's singer Sal Valentino, performing with his former band "The Beau Brummels" at the Summer Of Love festival in San Francisco. While this was kind of a special revival, he's currently active in the Sacramento area as Stoneground's lead guitar player Tim Barnes is (with Mick Martin & The Blues Rockers).

So, thanks to the internet I was able to collect a lot of stuff already, but if you could help me with some more details I would very much appreciate.

Best regards.


* * *


Subject: Moses: Water Gap visions
Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 23:34:18 -0500
From: Chuck Moses
To: "''"

Al, Every time we travel to NYC we go through and stop at the Delaware Water Gap. After reading about your adventures there with Nico.......We will never see it quite the same way again!!!. . .

                                                Chuck Moses

* * *


Subject: As we say in Tennessee: "Whoa doggies!"
Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2002 09:23:21 EST

Or maybe I picked up "Whoa doggies" growing up 50 miles west of Dodge City...

at any rate...a GREAT site! This will occupy so many hours of my time I can't even wager a guess....(You are such a grand writer...but I already knew that...)

My God, this administration in ugly...after the past election, I could only say: The Great Satan has won the Trifecta.

I differ on but one point: Nader. Very true that the Democrats are crumbling like stale cake...but the fact is, a Gore administration would not include Karl Rove. (True, he might have found some other asshole, but not one that I believe would be quite so disdainful of the American public.)

This past election season was a true dilemma. I believe that the Democrats should have gone down swinging even if it meant that they went down even bigger.

But the mood of the country is volatile, and even when people say they are against the war, they are so easily manipulated that the majority of Americans don't even know that Saddam didn't attack the WTC. When ads calling a triple amputee Vietnam vet in Georga Unpatriotic work, then we indeed walk a fine line. The name-calling has reached a fever pitch.

It reminds me of the days when the Christian fundamentalist anti-Equal Rights Amendment people branded all of us feminists as "pinko Commie lesbians" -- remember when the great Congresswoman Patsy Mink was called Patsy Pink? (To get an interesting look at those old days, you could check out a "sub-section" of Weasel World:

Then go down to the link that says Colorado Woman's an editorial from my magazine in the time you visit the weasel site, a link to your site will be up as well as naming yopu the latest winner of Patsi's Anti-Weasel award...

Again -- the site is fabulous...see you in the cage next to mine at Gitmo probably sooner than we think...Patsi

(My books and Music site is  -- it's mostly about hillbilly music, but includes my pal Judy Henske as well...)

At any rate, we agree on the larger picture: that the real Axis of Evil is Bush/Rove/Rumsfeld.  ##

* * *



The Blacklisted Journalist can be contacted at P.O.Box 964, Elizabeth, NJ 07208-0964
The Blacklisted Journalist's E-Mail Address: