This is not the most exciting photo, but hold on, there is a story behind it. That’s Alaine holding the towel. Not just any towel. For all the talk of ecology and green products, this is an example of the first true fully recycled and recyclable product of its kind on the market. And today I feel like a recycled rag because there was no gig this weekend. Instead, I’ll tell you what did happen.
As you know, the music Trent and I play is arranged, and the downside is that a sizeable portion of the music cannot be played by either of us alone. Trent is well aware how downright pragmatic I can be about bands and that I still practice my act as a solo just in case. Last evening, I got my first tip ($2) as a soloist singer with guitar. After bingo (more about that later), I stayed and played a one hour set of the music based on the duo song list.It was better than expected, although all the predictable distractions showed I lack stage time in this role. Forgotten lyrics, hesitant chord changes, and flubbed chords. The good news was except for a couple of guitar players present who could be expected to grumble, most of the audience was happy. My vocals lack confident presentation on notes near either my high or low range, I suppose I still internalize that I might not hit them right. That’s understandable, since this was my first and longest solo show.
When will I be ready? I’m ready now with around two hours of material, as long as I find an out of the way café. The duo cannot be made to go any faster than Trent picks up the material and nobody is pushing that envelope. It’s a sad fact if I lower my standards to play Eagles and such, I could very well do something by month’s end.
Cancel any weekend excursions for it turned bitter cold overnight. Electric blanket time. Bingo was a poor showing, but remember things have changed in the past year, and continue to change. Even an average bingo these days is enough to make for a fantastic week. In that sense, I miss old Wallace around because he knew the value of weekend travel to see new places. Even JZ has to wait for a weekend with no family obligations before we can take a break. And this year, everything is my treat.
What’s more, wherever there was a budget, supplies have stacked up past my ability to store things any more. I now have a six month stockpile of all necessities, right down to postage stamps, gasoline, rent, and daily coffee at a restaurant. I’m thinking of extending non-perishables to a year’s reserve. As early as June there will be a budget for travel, as well. I have to chuckle when I think about travel and Theresa.
My last major trip was with her up to Wilmington. Did she ever fool me, I thought she was sick and tired of uneducated men, I actually believed her when she said she wanted to learn computers and break out of her dead-end relationships with weak, lying divorcees. She loves to raise hell and complain all day long. The chuckle is how she managed to fool me for two entire years. The explanation is that I was lonely.
Has anyone else noticed the rash of articles listing the top ten worst states to live or retire in? How they are all clustered up in the Atlantic northeast. Since those states are not the coldest (N. Dakota) or have the highest violent crime (Tennessee), their problems must therefore be entirely manmade. This adds fuel to my argument how that cluster of states is the cause for the trouble America is in. They are individual microcosms of the bad politics, bribery, unfair taxes, and corruption that gush out of DC. Whenever I hear tell of a bone-head concept or an undeclared war, I know damn well what part of the country it sprang from.
And it does little good to say some of the people who do those crazy things are from Texas or the south in general. They don’t start acting like that until they get to the DC area where such sordid activities are considered normal. New Jersey, the Soprano State. Everybody knows nothing but crooked brokers and personal injury lawyers actually like to live in New York.
Ray-B called with the local music scene update. He’s got a wireless guitar jack which he does not like. It changes the tone of his electric. But I’m acoustic all the way so he says I can try it out. Fishsticks are now regularly available at the second-hand price of $650. I chose a tune to test tonight called “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off”. To make things easier, I thought to get the lyrics and chords off Chordie.com (no link here).
Man, what a pack of illiterates post on that site! Either that or every guitarist in this train is riding on the “may bee ah kint spel gud but ah got riddem” ticket. I have never yet seen an educated, well-written, properly punctuated post in that room. These dough head pole smokers don’t even know the kindergarten basics, they’re/their/there, the use of quotation marks, and they have never heard of the Oxford comma. Screw the theory that intelligence and creativity aren’t related. Are you trying to tell me every last guitar player who doesn’t pay attention to his spelling pays attention to his picking?
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