Nine Years of Wedded Bliss!

I posted about my friend, Alan Hirano when he passed away a couple of years ago, and since he helped make my wedding so special, I decided to post the song he helped me to write, record and produce.

Cover art was done by Mike Vosburg, of "Tales From the Crypt" fame.
Sorry it looks squished on the video!

 Just remember, when you click on the CD cover image above, that I'm not a songwriter, and Alan and the musicians and vocalists did all the heavy lifting!

Happy nine years, Mr. ShellHawk! I'd marry you all over again!

Epilogue, or, How to Celebrate a Life-Alan Hirano

"And I am not afraid of dying, any time will do, I don't mind.
Why should I be frightened of dying?
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime.
If you can hear this whispering you are dying.
I never said I was frightened of dying."

-Pink Floyd "The Great Gig in the Sky"
Sunday was a bittersweet day. As you know, I went to a very special celebration of a very special man's life. Please forgive my blatant self-indulgence in posting this entry about my friend Alan's memorial. I just had some thoughts to share about him.

It was wonderful to see such a big turnout. The Samurai Homeboys (soul band extraordinaire), past and present, were all present and accounted for. The New Breed Orchestra (a tremendous funk band, now sadly defunct, or perhaps de-funked...) were there in force. Those who loved him and had been effected by him were there, and they told stories. (I think it's important that we tell each other stories about people we love and about the things we love about them. It helps us learn from each other and strive to be more than we think we can be.)

Alan's reputation for prescription-drug-induced forgetfulness was brought back to light, as was his always high priority to "do lunch" with friends. People recalled his tremendous capacity for love and joy, in spite of the fact that due to severe health problems, he seemed to spend three or four months of every year in the hospital. I remembered many times that he was released from the hospital, he would leave from there to pick up his gear and head for a gig, because he had promised to be there. (Alan never broke his word if he could help it.) One man was fortunate enough to have Alan and the Homeboys music to accompany the courtship and marriage of his wife. Another saw the birth and success of his magazine with him.

There are few people in this life that understand that love given to one person isn't taken from anyone else, and that when success comes to someone, the same is true. Alan was one of those people. Any time someone started a project, or saw success in a project, well, Alan was the first in line to be supportive and to congratulate that person. It's a rare quality to be happy for others' success.

I have to say, if you have to go to a memorial of a friend, it helps if they're mostly musicians, because when the tears had flowed and the stories told, the music helped wash all that away and truly celebrate Alan's reason for living: his friends and his music.

I have a picture of him in my mind. Of Alan on stage, maybe at one of those huge festival gigs, or maybe at a warm and cozy private party with an endless budget for sound and decorations.

He's just had some new streaks of blue put in his hair, and he brushes it back from his face as he waits for his cue.

He smiles that smile, like the Buddha on too much caffeine. The four-count comes from Bonham, and Hendrix slings his guitar forward and steps up to the mike (Janis Joplin and Barry White are singing backup this time). They play the first few bars, and Alan swings in on bass, sounding for all the world like an army of orcs shaking the very mountains themselves.

Just playing.

Haunted Subway Car

I'm trapped between, "You're kidding, right?" and, "How fun!"

Also, someone tried to rob a convenience store with a Klingon Sword. I don't know who's more nerdy: the guy who did the robbery, or the clerk who recognized the sword!

Lastly, I'm headed for L.A. tomorrow for my friend, Alan Hirano's memorial, so I won't be posting for a few days. (Blog post on Alan here.) If anyone reads this post who was a friend of Alan's, please go to the old post's comments section for the where and when of the memorial. I'm looking forward to meeting everyone.

RIP Alan Hirano

The Rev. Carl Roberts, left, Alan Hirano, on bass, right. Photo: Sherri Miranda

Bass player and friend of Mr. and Mrs. ShellHawk, Alan Hirano, passed away in his sleep on January 14th, 2009, after a long struggle with numerous health issues. On his MySpace page, he claimed to have been 102. If so, he looked fabulous for his age.

You have probably never heard of Alan Hirano, but chances are, you have heard him. Alan played bass since childhood, and had his first paid recording gig at Capitol records when he was 16 years old. Alan has played with many of the greats, such as B.B. King, Isaac Hayes, Billy Preston, John Mayall and Ronnie Mack.

Alan and I met when I was at a pub in Santa Monica and he was playing bass with his soul band, The Samurai Homeboys. Alan found out I had managed an Irish band he knew and asked if I could help with booking his band. I agreed, and we developed a partnership and a friendship that I will treasure always.

When I mentioned to Alan I was getting married to Mr. ShellHawk, and asked for his help in writing a song as a gift for him, Alan agreed. Over the next few months we worked together on the project, The Waterfall and the Man, eventually bringing the Homeboys in to record their various parts. Alan and The Homeboys really internalized the feeling I wanted this song to convey to Mr. ShellHawk, and it showed on the final recording.

Alan treated the song as his baby from the moment I placed the words in his hands, and although I had no experience in songwriting, he always made me feel as though my song was as important as any on the Top 10 at Rolling Stone. Sometimes it didn't seem like the inanimate objects we worked with wanted to cooperate, but Alan's legendary sense of humor kept all of us going. My friend Nancy and Mr. ShellHawk's best man, Brian, recorded their vocals at the Samurai Village Studios in Chatsworth, California. All the while, the project was kept secret from Mr. ShellHawk until its unveiling as his wedding present at our wedding reception. The Samurai Homeboys played it for the first time in front of an audience, Alan's bass keeping time. It was a moment I'll never forget.

Alan and I maintained contact, even after I moved away and was no longer able to give The Samurai Homeboys the attention they deserved. As I ran across different avenues to promote his band, I'd email him or call, and he was always glad to hear from me and find out I still had him and his brainchild on my mind. Alan was also a producer on other bands' albums, and would sometimes send me a song or two to get some outside input. I don't mention this to aggrandize myself; Alan lived and breathed music, and strived to make every song its absolute best.

Alan is survived by the people whose lives he touched so deeply, and I am proud to call myself one of them. He will be deeply missed by us all.