Grumble. I’m finally home but I could not find a comfortable position all day. If there is a picture here eventually it is because I found it somewhere. I didn’t go out but here comes the sad news. I don’t have my guitar act ready, I got a call from the club, and lost a golden opportunity. The Karaoke show canceled at the last moment tonight. They pleaded with me but it was a no-go. That’s what I get for being a talentless half-wit.
Thick-sliced bread in today's pic. That is how it is done, son. Twelve slices to the loaf. How real men take their bread. From Kiss’s (not a typo), this is my weekend survival package of whole wheat. How good is it? Well, it is one of the few breads I eat with only margarine. This post has been re-written. I have that option and reserve it for times I know there must have been something wrong when I made the original. Turns out on this day they did give me narcotic painkillers and I have no experience with that. I said it somewhere nearby, but I’ll document my reactions to this drug. It's a first for me
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How did I find out? First, how did I get to the club right from the hospital. Easy, instead of plunking down a fortune for cab fare, I usually hike from discharge over to the club, where it is easy to catch a lift home from one of the regulars. The hospital had given me a little envelope of pills to take “as needed”.
Sure enough, several people present told me [next day] these were recognized street drugs. So much for America’s war on drugs. I went straight home, but not to bed, being wide awake after that disruptive hospital session. I don’t mean the hospital, but the 24 hour go-go routine has never appealed to me. I want my creativity to be spontaneous, not my job requirements.
Turns out Friday was the server’s birthday. She got off shift after I left, and that is when she called. Thus, I did not understand in addition to not subbing for the Karaoke, I was also the last hope for her having a good birthday party. And it made me realize I don’t know any other entertainers who will do a last minute stand-in either. Indeed, my relationship with music has really slipped below any long-standing rules I may have once had. And it is not just me since I did fine in Colorado.
There is a music club forming in Ft. Lauderdale. Or something they call a club. They give a song list and say if you can play any ten of those, join up. I read the list. They could just as easily have called it the old guitarist’s club. Hmmm, I went to link to it and the ad has either been taken down or flagged. Wait, there it is. The A1A musician’s club. The only song I know from the given is “Love Me Two Times” because it has a real bass line. (CL links expire after 45 days.)
There you have it, the real issues behind the Friday at home scenario this weekend. I relaxed here drinking coffee and re-reading detective novels that I read last year. (I read so many they are just as much fun a few months later. Can’t remember the plots of every one.)
The good news is when I’m staying home, it means I have more money for travel later. This is a very nice trade-off in life, it one can swing it. That's today's post, second time around, but I hope it ties together more of the loose ends than it did before.
Picture added in 2016. This is the Donald with Miss Universe. In Moscow. You politically correct jerk-offs can eat your heart out.
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