A couple weeks ago, the Olaf Wieghorst  Western Heritage Day's Festival took place in El Cajon, California. It's always great to be able to get out and interact with the public in that type of environment. After 6 years, I'm still amazed at the reaction people have when they see the stagecoach, whether it's the memories it conjures, the curiosity it piques or the awe it inspires. Men and women, young and old — so many people are drawn to it.

And because I love to educate and tell stories, it was a great time.

After spending the weekend dressed in an 1870s costume, complete with waist coat and pocket watch, answering questions and telling stories about stagecoaches and Wells Fargo history in the hot El Cajon Valley sun, I decided to take a day off.

So, here I sit with my road atlas, a well-warn copy of The Butterfield Overland Mail  by Waterman L. Ormsby, Post-it Notes  in three colors, and of course, my laptop with internet at the ready. What could I possibly be doing?

Well, if all goes as planned, I will have the unique opportunity to travel the old Butterfield mail route  from St. Louis to San Francisco. What's the occasion you ask? As many of you may know, this year is the 150th anniversary of the first overland mail trip  via the Butterfield Route .

As part of our celebration of this anniversary — which will include new interactive exhibits in our museums! — I'm hoping to recreate the trip in the same amount of time as the historic journey .

Launching from St. Louis on September 16 and arriving in San Francisco on October 10 (to what I imagine will be a ticker tape parade!), I'll spend 26 days on the road. I plan to blog, video, photograph and interview interesting people and places I see along the way.

As you can imagine, this is no small undertaking: which brings me back to the atlas, book, post it notes, etc.

Right now, I'm in the process of working out the logistics, budget, research and all else that goes into planning a trip of this kind. I can only imagine what planning, anxiety and excitement must have gone into the pioneers' and 49ers' preparations. It's been a lot of work so far, but I think it will be incredibly rewarding in the end.

I can't wait to share this experience with you! So keep your fingers crossed and I'll keep you posted....

Posted by Casey at 04:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Found in Agriculture, Animals, At Work, Barbecue, Baseball, Branding, Coffee, Disco, Dogs, Environment, Experts, First-hand Accounts, Get Involved, Hollywood, Misc, Movies, Museums, Music, Perspective, Remember, San Diego, Stagecoach, Transportation, Travel, Wells Fargo Bank, Westerns

The other day I was listening to a CD in the car. It was the Bee Gees  and other disco from the late '70s and early '80s. Even though I should have been dancing, the songs told me, I had to drive. So I started thinking, which is what I do and what makes these posts so memorable. (Alright already!)

Disco  was the combustion of three important historic ingredients: dancing, Watergate  and the music biz. Dancing returned to rock 'n' roll after the egotistical '60s had destroyed it. Rock 'n' roll was all about dancing at the beginning, with the Big Bopper , the Killer  and The King . Later, during the British Invasion , dance clubs played rock 'n' roll as hipsters jerked and frugged . The late '60s put that on hold as young people focused on consciousness raising, festivals and fashion.

Altamont  revealed the limitations of the Age of Aquarius, as Kent State  revealed the determination of leaders to continue the Vietnam war. After Watergate, many people tuned out public affairs, tired of scandal and violence. The rock 'n' roll generation retreated to the original fun of the art form: concerts and dancing. Meanwhile, soul music had reached its political and artistic heights in the '60s. While artists sang about contemporary themes, the music never lost its mission to make people dance. The sound kept changing with fresh artists and producers who found new ways to mix in scads of musical elements and effects. The more that was produced into a song, pulsing dance rhythms had to be more prominent. Combined with multi-vocal traditions from doo-wop  days, the result was those smooth but funky records of the '70s.

Producers had fat new technology available, kids were buying records in huge quantities, and people were dancing to rock ' n' roll instead of taking over office buildings . Everybody in the music business was looking for a place to mix it all together and make a fortune. The Gibb brothers, who had enjoyed some success a decade before with British Invasion ballads, were experimenting with new pop mixes that would get AM airplay and get on the playlists at dance clubs. They scored an independent film that featured a rising TV star and was about the emerging new dance club culture.

It was called "Saturday Night Fever,"  and the Gibbs produced the soundtrack featuring their own songs and those of several other artists. The movie was an instant hit, thanks to John Travolta  as star, but the soundtrack  was bigger. After the two debuted in winter 1977, the airwaves were saturated for another few years with disco and the Bee Gees' song-making juggernaut.

By the early '80s, many people had had enough, and disco got a terminal reputation as stupid and greedy, produced in seconds by non-artists in sound factories. Fair enough—too much of anything is not good (like '60s self-importance, maybe?). But it was a real force for a few years. It was happening.

Listening to some of these songs 30 years later, in the self-containment of a Toyota on the freeway, I got a momentary different vibe. A lot of work went into disco—the instruments and voices were usually real people—and good songs are good songs. Disco was dumb, sure. So were hair metal bands in the '80s  and white shoe-wearing fakes in the '50s. Don't sweat disco, my friends. It's just history anymore.

Posted by Charles at 06:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)
Found in Disco, First-hand Accounts, Misc, Natural Disasters, Perspective, Remember, Wells Fargo Bank