The BMW. Approximately an hour after I mentioned it, the airwaves were flooded with warnings, including mine. Upon enlarging the picture, about four people besides myself spotted that is was a fake. It is a copy, albeit a very early 1960 copy and difficult to detect. However, I may contact the person concerning the price after this revelation. How do you get a rock wannabe to play country? O’Rourke used to quote a tale about Mao getting a cat to eat a hot pepper. His Minister said to pry open the cat’s mouth and force it to bite the pepper. Mao said no, that is force and the cat should bite the pepper willingly. The General said to wrap the pepper in a nice juicy piece of fish and the cat would bite it. No again, Mao explained that is coercion and the cat must be willing. So they asked how. Mao said shove the hot pepper up the cat’s ass. Then he would gladly bite it.
St. Augustine is still in the picture. I could book in advance but I’ve been stung on that before, right Microtel? By nefarious means, I requested 8 rooms during the week of my projected stay and they had that many available. So I may just show up and offer cash. Then I won’t be barraged by Internet advertising in the interim.
Talk about impressive, a new food store has taken over the old dollar store premises at the corner of Dixie and Sheridan. It’s like upping your food budget 50% but stay out of the meat department. For pantry goods, it’s mini-paradise. The selection is huge if you don’t mind under-advertised brands. Cheapest food item: cream of mushroom soup at 57 cents a can, half the price at Publix. I’ll have to stock up.
I ran into Jack the programmer at the library. He’s got that condition where his fingertips and earlobes go numb, but this time it was more than serious. The guy belongs in the hospital. He reports going to Social Security and experiencing the same thing I did—being the only white male in the room. They declined him, so I gave him the number of my lawyer.
Things are ready for my big overnight in Miami. I’ll be packing up the scooter tomorrow for the run down Ocean Avenue. I’ve got the blueprints for an anti-dog barking device, the one that emits a painful ultrasonic beam whenever it detects barking. They retail for $60 and I can build one for 10%. Except I’ll connect it to a real amplifier. No barking, folks. Not between certain hours. Not never. Are we clear on that? Others may like to take an afternoon nap and you have no right to interfere with that. We do not share your pet’s behavior.
Let me tell you the good news. The Karaoke show was giving away free DVD prizes again, so I popped over at 8:30 PM. In the past year, my singing has evolved to where I can somewhat imitate my favorite vocalists. I do a little Johnny Cash and such. But tonight, the mic was turned low so I had to really belt it out to get the proper balances. Not only did my voice not crack, I found it exhilarating, and so did the audience. I’m trying to say I found belting it out to be no more difficult than imitating another kind of singer. It was a show-stopper. Remind me to follow up on that.
Hammer, the new guitar player, has been in touch. Kept saying he didn’t get my e-mail until I suggested he check his junk folder. If he’s really been playing for thirty years, this could be a new era in this town. It’s been a blues-rock wasteland since 1970 with droves of guitarists inculcated with the same mind-set. “Yew, country. I don’t do that.” In fact, the majority don’t do nothing at all because of that attitude.
I’ve sent the Hammer a small list of tunes I can do as of today. I’ll be watching very closely for his reaction, since it is easy but amateurish to pre-judge a list without hearing the arrangements. And I know it is difficult to imagine my show without hearing it live. It’s 90% how it is presented, not how it is played. He has not yet stated anything about his own list.
