Issue #18
Date: 01/01/19

Official Walter Becker Website:  walterbecker.com
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Complete WeB Directory:  walter becker webworld dynasty !

In This Issue: New Years Edition 2019

      = D-Mod Looks Back
      = Matt Throws Down 

New Years Greetings Everyone!

And so —  the final Newsletter of 2018. This time last year we weren't sure
we’d make it to March. And yet here we are, having finished strong  —
if we do say so ourselves — with last week’s Newsletter presenting 
two new rarities and a Caption Contest. 

And what can be said of the state of BeckersvilleDotCom today?

Was 2018:

 SLIDE INTO DECADENCE or
 HEALING REGRESSION ? 

was it

 ANNUS HORRIBILIS or 
 ANNUS MIRABILIS?

You tell me.

Here's my ramp-up and balance sheet for
our Year One online

DB

---------------------------------

 Gone was the  privilege of hearing the best music on
the planet played by the best musicians on the planet any night
of my choosing

 Preserved were a few remaining high-frequency Hz of hearing
and suspension of the galloping progression of 24/7 tinnitus 

---------------------------------

 Gone was the Almost Famous re-run, 20-aught version, sliding
into the limo next to my Rock N' Roll Guy, the object of curiosity
and maybe even envy as a (creaky, geriatric version of) the 
Alpha-Groupie, perma-squeeze (h/t Oleander), backstage and 
stage left, with an All-Access and Escort Laminate with runners
running about to procure aspirin, nicorette gum, or bar-b-cue at
any hour; a guaranteed place on anyone's guest list; and the pure
pleasure -- never old --  of watching faces light up as they pass 
and lay eyes on my talented, beautiful boy.

 But never again to need: a salon haircut and 2-process
color for pete's sake; to shop for a single additional shred 
of Lady Clothes: another moment's concern with cosmetic appearance
so as not to embarrass my mate, lest observers pity that
he's been stuck with a (creaky, geriatric) woofer.

---------------------------------

  Missing out meeting and spending time with interesting
"celebrities" or artists of great talent and achievement, never again
to dance with Paul McCartney to an ecstatic FM encore, nor
dine with a favorite novelist, or my singer-songwriter
girl-crush since the onset of adolescence, never again
to enjoy an immediate friendly reception simply by the drop of a
name, albeit realizing it was never my own sparkling self to whom the
welcome was extended, but that I was just The One's "Plus One"
who came as part of the package
 

 But spared more soul-crushing revelations that some of these very objects of
my star-struck (but carefully blasé) admiration were all too often
malignant narcissists, less than exactly bright, or just
plain old boring -- with that unconditional admiration now gone forever, 
never to be reinstalled. Talent be damned; some things can never be un-seen

---------------------------------

 No more limos driven out onto the tarmac, skipping past
the  x-ray machine and the shoeless, beltless walk of shame 

 But also no more living out of 2 suitcases for 3 out of 4 seasons --
for years.

---------------------------------

 Deflated is the chest-expanding pride that comes from
waving around a flashlight backstage, awaiting my sweetheart
so as to escort him safely through the tangled perils of the post-show
fog

 But now mercifully spared my own constantly sprained
ankles and bruised knees --and chronic humiliation --  
as my overweight,  shortsighted  spotlight-blind guitarist moves 
swiftly among the cable knots like a fucking alley cat while his
"guide" crashes into everything and everyone within yards of
her "safety beam"

---------------------------------

...but finally, ultimately, now comes that place of all cons and no pros.
No gains -- only loss.

Only loss --
empty and black. 

I know some of you found yourself there too. 
 

---------------------------------

 ...AND SO, at the start of 2018, while still in a deep, 
literal, physical shock, I came to encounter a hellish, inexplicable 
torrent of horrifying and surreal lies,  surgically designed, it seemed,
to separate me from my natural "support" -- Walter's admirers -- those
very people with whom, by sharing our grief, might have helped us
all feel a little less alone. 

 And they were fiendishly effective, these lies -- even though not one of
them was true. Not one.  I didn't know what to do; Dueling press
releases or facebook posts?  Point-by-point refutation of the easily-enough
disprovable untruths? No. Too much force driving behind them.
Too much flammable cruelty fueling their spread. All I could do is try
to follow Walter's lead; he always declined to fight for turf, the nasty stuff,
understanding such wars were demeaning and belittling and doomed 
to failure in any case. He knew the score -- and how it was kept. 

But there were so many promises to him I was unable to keep; I
 failed to fairly protect his kids, look after how his SD music was presented and
sold, how his name and likeness were to be used; failed to preserve
our home and other cherished collaborations. In the end I was unable
to honor any one.  

There was just one more promise I could try to keep:  To give away
some of his unfinished music to "those interested enough to hear it".
But how to do that? In an atmosphere thick with toxins  I could scarcely
(then) understand,  I couldn't  imagine how to begin.


 So I entered our  online year all but paralyzed, watching an 
historical rewrite,  visible enough in the public  record -- albeit in
slow motion -- ongoing and accelerating and taking firm hold. 
Walter was getting smaller and smaller, his voice ever fainter.

But he was such a big man. His life was so big. He deserved
so much more. 
 

 That was all I knew. That --- and that I had become a
ridiculous vessel filled with little but impotence and self-pity. 

And I knew I was alone.

Or so I thought.

Slowly a few warm words began to
reach me, although I could barely understand  them.
Here comes Matt Kerns, who had gotten to know a Walter
very few had known, who had uncommon insight
into his place not only in the SD partnership but in musical
history broadly defined, evincing an appreciation of his  
uniqueness as a musician and as a man, devoted to
Water's legacy and he (and his family) generous to me
beyond measure, fairly dragging me across each deadline,
gently insisting on some next goal, exerting a kind but steady
insistence that I try to honor this important promise,
insisting that Walter's voice could and would yet be heard. 
He would help.

And he did, this new friend.

 Then others started showing up.  First you -- then you -- 
then more and more of you all the time.  At first I couldn't hear
you, having been banned just weeks after my husband died
from the very online spaces where you gathered to talk.  But somehow
you made yourselves known,  told me and one another that
you were there, you were listening, that you heard.

 Your warmth emerged, a sly silliness and insistence on
having a little fun, the perfect if not the only way, of course,
to celebrate Walter and to share an appreciation of his gifts,
telling me and one another he had made his mark -- and true. 
I began to feel a little alive, as I came to realize he may have died but
had not grown cold. 
 

And soon, new friends. And possibilities for an online home
for Walter's work that I couldn't have imagined just months before. 

And then Walter Becker Media began to achieve what I
doubted it ever could, but exactly what I had dreamed it might:
just a place, a simple place,  where Walter's creativity could speak directly,
unmediated by other voices or narrators, the  "silent" one not so
silent after all; a kind and talented and riotously funny man who had
been creating all along -- now being seen with more acuity and
heard with more clarity than perhaps he ever had been before.

It seemed then,  and seems to me now,
something of a little miracle. Wouldn't you agree?

-------------------------

People always ask how we met, Walter and I. It wasn't 
Ashley Madison, it wasn't OurTime, it wasn't
alt.binaries.sex.zebras...but yes...Walter and I met online.

There in the middle of the Pacific, open to new venues for
creativity and exploration, in 1995 Walter wanted a website for Steely Dan.

The record companies first offered up somebody's nephew--
then a series of  "New Media" hucksters -- none of whom knew
the first thing about translating the Dan sensibility into this strange
new language of of zeros and ones.

Walter took the obvious tack. He knew he was going to have to
build the damn thing himself. So he went looking for those
who already got it: us.

He cruised the web looking for every DanFan site he
could find, seeing what was out there, how the online DanFan
handled the translational challenge. In short, he went trolling for help.

And he found us, his most rabid fans and early 'net adapters --
found me;  found St Al; Hoops; John Granitino; Oleander; Joe Murtha... 
and the growing community of oddballs and misfits of impeccable
musical taste who, whether through Guestbooks or specialty blogs
or phantasmagorical fever dreams were populating the growing 
SD online world. 

Aside from helping with that first links page or explaining
the flavors of UN*X or offering other nuts and bolts advice 
(and hands-on work), the most valuable thing we could do
was to paint him a picture of the SD Community as it existed
then; the vibe(s), characters, DanFests-and-Ventions, the chats
and chatter; what we already did "for ourselves" and what we dreamed
they ("The Two") might yet do for us.  We did show and tell; the building 
excitement about the Tour; the near-hysteria about the prospect of
The New One.

We all promised him there was most definitely a place for them
"here", and that we all would help (and we all did). 

But first, what did he  want their site to be? What was important
to him? 

Here is his earliest written answer, in an email to me, from mid-1996.
He wrote:

[Ed: YT = Yours Truly]

you ask of my interest in the SD website and its possibilities,
along with all the more obvious chances for self-expression and
good clean fun  there is a very real sense of gratitude that
YT feels about all those people who listened to those tunes
through the years, gave me and my partner a chance to continue
doing something that we loved and that defined us in so many
ways, all those people who clapped and cheered at those shows
in the nineties - because I know that the thrill they gave me was
equal to or greater than the one they were getting, you can't and
won't tell me otherwise - and even the most tragically hip and
chronically and proudly alienated middle aged brat might welcome
a new way to be connected to that appreciation, to hide some nugget
of that gratitude under the usual veneer of snide smart-ass stuff (again)
where somebody might find it.  And a very dear friend and then her friends
have helped me get a sense of an interesting and singularly accessible
for YT chunk of that audience out there, has helped me do something well
in a way that has never been easy for me but that makes me feel good,
now that I've gotten ahold of it.   The kid with the long hair couldn't/didn't
give a fuck, the  protoadult definitely does, you helped me understand
how to express that, helped me understand what the page could be,
what people would want it to be, and are now helping me make it be
that way. thank you, a big thank you for that.

It was something he wanted you to know - obviously. And it's a New Years nugget
I wanted to pass on to you today. He left us before he could write his own story about
the "Early Daze" of SDDotCom, something he sometimes spoke of
doing in his last years -- so that he could tell you, remind you, that it
was all very true and real for him still, and right along.

---------------------------------

Matt Throws Down 

August 24, 2000
Chattanooga, Tennessee

Dear Walter,

Wow! Hard to believe that the US leg of the tour is already over.
Kudos to you on the crowd response and the personal, professional,
and fiscal performance of and for the Steely Dan touring group this year.
Really, I mean it, congratulations.

Well, I thought I would be happy after having seen nearly all of the
North American tour dates, but somehow I feel as if I won't be satisfied
until I see at least fifteen more shows...and what a coincidence, the band
is doing that same amount of gigs in Europe in the coming weeks.

Now I know you can't have a random fan tagging along for kicks,
so I have come up with a short list of ideas that I am sure will help
you see the viability in having me be your guest for the European
leg of the Steely Dan Tour 2000.

1. As an excuse to have me along, you can post-announce
a contest on the website, with me as the winner. I get to
go and you look both benevolent and generous in a public
manner befitting your status.

2. I am sure that even in a touring cadre of such fine
repute as your own, there is the occasional complaint from
the errant member of the band or road crew. I am also certain
that someone else hears these complaints before talking to you,
but who wants to deal directly with the person to whom complaints
are made? Ergo, I could be the go-between between you and the
go-between guy, buffering you from second hand complaints, 
anger, and hostility.

3. I can, swiftly and without fail, wrap cucumbers in aluminum foil.

4. Four of the fifteen European shows will be in Germany, and
as I have discovered by watching late-night soccer on ESPN2,
German fans can be a wild bunch. As a diversionary tactic, I am
fully prepared to yell, "Look, it's David Hasselhoff!" as you and
Donald are whisked out of harm's way.

5. In your role as performing musicians, it is crucial that both
Donald and yourself not strain the muscles in your hands and
fingers. At the same time, there is a constant demand for your
autographs on CD sleeves, tour programs, t-shirts, and other
mercantile oddities. In preparation, I have learned the correct
spellings of both you and Mr. Fagen's full names. For a nominal
fee, I could provide this same service to the rest of the touring
ensemble.

6. You are in a position of extreme scrutiny, and you have to
worry about offending your public. Occasionally there are surely
things you wish that you could say without fear of offending anyone.
In such occurrences, I would be willing to act as your unofficial
"mouthpiece," as I don't at this point care who I offend.

7. I noted during the American leg of the trip that Ted Baker
cut his hair, leaving you and Michael as the lone long-haired
duo as far as male band members go. What happened to rock
star ethos, that sense of Samson-esque pride which musicians
in your genre once had? All but gone, it seems. I am, however,
willing to forswear the cutting of my own hair for the duration
of the European tour.

8. With the current popularity of such "voyeur" shows as Big
Brother and Survivor, I'm sure you'll want a piece of the action.
I propose a Survivor type show to be done on the Steely Dan
website over the course of the European tour, with me acting as
host in order to ensure the eventual elimination of the band and
the subsequent victory of both yourself and Mr. Fagen.

These are only preliminary versions of several of my ideas, and these
can be reworked or reconceptualized in order to better suit the personal
needs of both yourself and Mr. Fagen. Just let me know.

Regards, 

Matt

----------------------------------

I didn't mean it, except that I did.

It was a joke, you know, except that it wasn't.

Of course there's a part of everyone that would love to throw caution
to the wind, quit their job, post-partum explaining their removal from
the academic rolls of a certain local campus of their state's land-grant
University, and follow the band, man.  But that wasn't really all of it,
even back then.  It was more than that, or at least other than that.  It was
doing a thing during the brief window that thing could be done, diving
into the deep end of that which makes the world a measure more bearable
knowing full damn well the whole while that any once in a lifetime experience
can color the rest of said lifetime.  And maybe that's a good thing, but maybe
emerging from the dive leaves one in a sopping wet state that isn't something
you recover from.  Maybe once you "toured with Steely Dan" you're always going
to be the guy that "toured with Steely Dan" but not the guy that is currently touring
with Steely Dan.  

There is an immeasurable sadness in the past tense.  To cling to what you
were but are not.  And that experience did define me, at least a part of me. 
Oh, you've been to a dozen Widespread shows?  I toured with Steely Dan
one summer.  Do you still know those guys?

One unforeseen consequence is the cachet of good will engendered in me
by the man solely responsible for it.  On my own, I go to see one of the Atlanta
shows, probably by myself.  With Walter Becker on your team, you go on the
whole tour and bring dozens of family and friends to a few shows with great
seats and an unforgettable experience.  On my own, I remember that one show
and the great music played by the incredible team of Becker and Fagen and their
handpicked orchestra.  With Walter Becker on your team, you eat dinner with
Becker and Fagen backstage at the Ice Palace in Tampa, and they both laugh at
your joke about Chick Corea and Scientology while the three of you banter in a
way that is later described by multiple members of the band witnessing said banter
as "wholly uncharacteristic."

You can't pay back that kind of thing, and you know it as it is happening, which
you don't realize is truly rare until later, much later, when you wish you could
start to return the favor.  What can you give to match that which has been given?

So this entire thing is an effort towards that end, which is never going to be an
end, and you know that now in the same way you knew then that this thing,
whatever this thing is in this moment, is really going to matter in your honest self
accounting later.  And even though you really did wish that you could go to
Germany and share another inside joke or eat catering and make eyes at the
backup singers, this is where it came full circle.

So you really want to give, but the first step of giving is receiving.  Sure, Walter,
I'll give these people a video and a set of downloadable high quality audio files
for Our Lawn...what?  I have to listen to multiple versions of you playing with your
incredible studio band, bantering as you lead them into as good a song as any
other artist might hope to record once in a lifetime that never really made it anywhere? 
So what I get is a first listen before I share with your people?  You aren't making it
easy to pay back when you keep giving giving giving, and I think you'd laugh at
the concept and I'm sorry that I don't get that chance.  You deserved more and better,
my man, but am I damn proud of what I'm able to do.

So the inexorable tide of goodies and goodness goes in and out from whatever
seemingly endless font of creativity you stored up and really showed us very little of. 
I think for a while perfection was the goal, but I'm glad that it didn't stay that way. 
I guess you thought you deserved perfection, and maybe you thought we deserved
it too...but if you decided somewhere along the line, perhaps looking back and wishing
you'd had more perfection to offer, that even if we both deserved perfection giving
us a damn good thing for the sake of us all enjoying has its upside too.  

You were a lot.  You were much.  You were big, man.  I don't know if I knew it before,
but I know it now.  You had depth, and from that depth you gave and now let me
give on your behalf.  It's a duty, you know, because I want to pay it back, but its an
honor and a hell of a ride.

So thanks for the invite, as it were.  You didn't take me to Germany, or need my help
in falsely identifying Mr. Hasselhoff in a crowd, and I guess you weren't afraid of
offending anyone after all.  But you wrote me a second act, you know?  So I was
the guy that toured with Steely Dan, but now I'm the guy that thinks about, writes about,
and shares the things Walter Becker wanted to share with everyone else like me,
and I think that's better.

Matt

===================

A final New Years' nugget  -- to get '19 started off right.
[Ed: now this link we did edit out; it was a special clip that will remain only in the memory banks of our subscribers at the time]

This is unposted, unheralded, unannounced --
so please, no copying, or downloading, just for now.  Eventually
we'll serve it up to you in the usual way, and perhaps (perhaps)
make it available to the wider WB world. But what feels right
to us, for now, is that the thing be here just for the Subscribers.
And that would be you. 

Happy New Year, everyone. 

Until Next Time....

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