Bob Is My Co-Pilot

These days when I drive, I mostly listen to NPR. I hear music all the time at home or on my headphones at work, and sometimes I still can’t resist the urge to hear music in the car, but even then it’s almost always coming from my iPhone. Which is all another way of saying I don’t hear much broadcast music anymore. It wasn’t a conscious choice, it’s just where I find myself these days.

With one exception. About once every week or two I visit Friends of Pipeline CliffP and KariC in Minneapolis for a subdued night of revelry, TV, and maybe a little Coke. Over the many years I have made the journeys back home across the river to St. Paul, it has become my custom to turn the dial to 88.5 FM, KBEM, which is a jazz station. For some reason, whether I’m driving through a sticky summer night, a foggy autumn darkness illuminated by the street lamps on the Marshal Avenue bridge, or a snot-freezing cold Minnesota nightmare, hearing that Jazz Overnight program has always felt right on those late night drives back home.

I think it’s because of the after-midnight host, Bob Parlocha. Despite listening to the guy for years, I only learned his name a couple weeks ago. I’m not sure how that’s possible, because there have been nights the dude did nothing but talk from the entire time I got into my car in south Minny to the time I got out in St. Paul. It’s not idle chit-chat, though. In between songs he’ll go into excruciating detail about what he has played that night, or will play, or won’t play. If there were six guys in a session from the record he just played, you’ll know who all six of those guys were. You’ll know all the other guys those guys played with. You’ll know Bob Parlocha’s personal connections to those guys, when he saw them, what they are doing now. You’ll know everything Bob Parlocha wants you to know, which turns out to be quite a bit. And you might as well settle in, because Bob’s going to take his time telling you all these things.

I don’t know how old Bob is, but he’s one of these jazz warhorses who has been around. You can just hear it in his voice, and he’s in no hurry to spit things out because this…is…Jazz…Overnight. Nobody’s going anywhere, not Bob, not you, not Jack DeJohnette, who played that marvelous session you just heard from Jackie McLean in ’67. Yes, ’67 was a good year for DeJohnette, who also that year was on
the seminal records from…you get the idea. It takes Bob 90 seconds to tell me all of that, but for some reason I can’t change the dial. It’s like Bob’s voice is a sort of jazz instrument all its own. His voice, his cadence…he’s got nothing on Ambien, which may mean this is not the best idea for late night drive-home music.

As Jane and I were driving home from the Bumpkin Hollow Halloween Party this year at CliffP and KariC’s, I introduced her to the mellow sounds of Bob Parlocha. First we heard a great Cannonball Adderly tune, and then, as I hoped, Bob took a break from playing music and decided to talk music. I said to Jane, “Listen to this guy. He’s going to do this, then talk about this, then say this other thing, and we aren’t going to hear another piece of music before we get home. And it won’t matter.” And it all came true, he talked and talked, we didn’t hear another tune, and we didn’t particularly care. We just listened to an old man wax on about music that had clearly consumed his life.

So, as I mentioned, only a couple weeks ago did Bob actually say his name while I was listening. At first I was ecstatic; it was a revelation to finally know the name of the man who had been my co-pilot home for so many years. But then I had a disturbing thought—should I look up a photo of Bob Parlocha? What if, instead of the decrepit and frail Jimmy the Greek look-a-like I imagined, he instead looked like Bob Newhart, or Bob Barker, or Bob Dylan?

I never looked. It’s bad enough I know Bob’s name; I liked it better when he was just a nameless voice in the night, one who was always there, sounded the same and played the same music, even as I got older. But…I’ll get over it. I still prefer to hear the music rather than hear people talk about the music. But sometimes, late at night, you want someone to talk you all the way home while you enjoy the ride.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Bob Is My Co-Pilot

  1. Steve says:

    I haven’t heard your Overnight Bob that I can recall, but almost 20 years ago I worked with Bob Van Cleve, the then Overnight Bob for Jazz88. I think he would have satisfied your imagined image.

  2. Nathan D says:

    100% of the people who read this post are going to look up that picture.

    I’ll go out on a limb and say you won’t be disappointed.

  3. pipelineblog says:

    Aagh! I’m not gonna look. Not yet.

    Bob Van Cleve is an excellent Jazz Overnight DJ name.

  4. Kieran says:

    I did look. And the dude plays in a band every other week * few miles from my house. I kind of think I need to go see him.

  5. Kelly says:

    You know reading your blog has a similar soothing quality to it. I think its the familiarity as much as it is your story telling. I’m already feeling more centered. I much prefer a routine reading pipeline than checking in on the political landscape. My last few years of feeling unsorted is a clear lack of pipeline 😉

  6. david says:

    I don’t know if I’ve ever heard Bob Parlocha, but I used to listen to a LOT of 88.5 overnight. How long have they been airing this guy’s show?

  7. MikeB says:

    I used to hear Leigh Kamman on MPR – The Jazz Image. His smooth melodic pipes were sorta hypnotic, it seemed he knew every detail as well, probably played a gig or two with most of those bands. Way back in the the crap job days I heard a voice across the counter. It was unmistakeable but but it seemed out of context, no radio was playing. I looked and sure enough it was him. I couldn’t tell by what he looked like, I never saw him or a picture. But the voice was pure. It was Leigh Kamman. Smoooooooth

  8. Charley says:

    You know he’s a 19 year old hmong guy, right?

    nah, it’s safe. If you ran into that guy at the grocery store you’d think, “I wonder if that guy hosts a jazz show?”

  9. Clint says:

    It’s universally agreed. I looked and it’s safe.

    On a completely different level, I have been fascinated with a guy on Sirius Boneyard names Eddie Trunk. Don’t know what he looks like but he sure can talk the talk. Hard rock instead of jazz but he has been around the block and back.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s