Aging, Burrito Brothers and Longlost Stores

Not quite three hours to go in birthday LX. In one, but really only one respect, it hath sucketh: the bug I've been battling since Tuesday is still hanging on, keeping both of us awake for much of last night with my stupid coughing jags. Despite spending much of today downing about three gallons of water to try flushing it out, and diving multiple times under a bath towel with a bowl of steaming water to try smoking it out, the cough has continued, particularly when I'm lying down. I'm going to Nyquil it now, and if it's still annoying me in the morning, I'm going to head to the Doc in a Box just to see if something from them will get it under control.

On the bright side, I was taken out to lunch today by a family of Rochester friends, for hot dogs and sundaes at two of Buffalo's homegrown favorites.  My college roommates are also only two area codes away at the moment; they headed to Ithaca today, and are planning to come out our way tomorrow.  I got lots of Facebooked and carded birthday wishes, and once I feel better I promise to express thanks to all who contributed:)

Thursday night, I continued my sudden tradition of concertgoing.  In the country-rock tradition of the Byrds who preceded them (and contributed Chris Hillman to their original lineup) and the Eagles who followed (and purloined Bernie Leadon from them), in between was a band known as the Flying Burrito Brothers.  They never had quite the fame, or even a particularly hit single, but their sound was distinctive and their musicianship much loved.  This is the current incarnation:

 

 

In the corner of stage left was a particularly legendary bassist, David Jackson:



No biggie. Just has played for decades with these guys, Jackson Browne, T-Bone Burnett and Linda Ronstadt. Oh, and he co-wrote “Joy to the World” with Hoyt Axton. I posted that I was close enough to shake his hand, and when they came offstage after about the first hour, I did just that:)

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Somewhere in the past few days, we got word of a store closing, which for much of modern history was more than just a store: the last local Sears, in a mall south of here, has announced it is giving up the ghost.  Long before the whole nation knew of Walmart or Target, Sears was the place to get anything from clothing to appliances (Kenmore) to tools (Craftsman) to, long before, whole houses you could order from their catalog and assemble on your lot.  There was one of them still standing off of North Forest Road, barely a mile from here, last I knew- and this one in the nearby Village.

Growing up, we'd go to their humongous store in Hicksville- probably the one that inspired Billy Joel to write about Brenda and Eddie getting "an apartment with deep pile carpet and a couple of paintings from Sears." (That one closed last year.)  But the stores became more associated with the tawdriness of Upstate living; NYC Mayor Ed Koch blew a lead in statewide gubernatorial polls to Mario Cuomo when he described our retail as "when you have to drive 20 miles to buy a gingham dress or a Sears Roebuck suit?"  (For the record, I never bought a suit from them.  But sportscoats, ties and their sturdy underwear?)

They also were one of the first retailers to take a chance on me as a credit customer:



Yup, 1979. (That's not the original card, which was more of an older-style charge plate with the square-box Sears logo on it, but the account number was the same; they later converted it to a Citibank-serviced MasterCard.)  At the time, their only store in Ithaca was a catalog outlet in Triphammer Mall with floor samples of appliances and some parts for them, but that card was hugely important in one respect:

Sears rented cars; or rather, Budget did, but you could use your Sears card for the rental.  Being under 25 and not having any other major card until law school, this was my only way to get an emergency vehicle when my crap Ford broke down or when I needed a bigger car for one of the twelve moves I made in ten years from '77 to '87.

Their demise over the past decade has been sad to watch. The shotgun marriage with K-Mart, the expansion into too many malls in too few years, a hedge fund buying up most of the company and selling off much of its real value in the store lots and brand names, before a final trip to Bankruptcy Court that has now put a final Craftsman-branded nail in the coffin. (Not sure if they ever sold those, but they did have a wide variety of headstones.)

I wonder what Kids These Days will wax nostalgiac about in 40 years.  Amazon? Netflix? Democratic government?