Don’t expect entertainment since this took all day and then some. I put six miles on the bike getting parts, drank a pot of tea helped Carlos change a tire on a Mercedez and am going to spend the evening with the “Sopranos”. Grease up to my elbows shows I gave it the old college try. Good old Ford saved 50 cents in the manufacturing process again. As you see in the photo the tire is off and the front end is two feet up off the ground. Part of the problem is Ford uses spring clips instead of hose clamps. Teri called, we are basically set for a week from Monday as long as she gets a few more packing boxes. That means I am going to take the car to the shop tomorrow so I am back on the road. Arnel also called to say he won’t be playing the beach today due to a bad cold. He sounded hoarse, like me a month ago. I’m having trouble with Cakewalk, some of my modules won’t load, others won’t transfer. My vocals are still terribly weak but progressing.
No music, no car. What good am I? Other than the other stuff, I mean. For instance, did you notice in today’s photo where the “No Parking” sign used to be? It was right above the headlight. It is actually our sign, but as you know, I am acquainted with people stupid enough to get exactly the wrong idea from any given set of facts. So out it came, or at least it decided to go transparent.
I read late last evening. I don’t quote the author and title of books every time, because it is what the book is about that is most important. Same with movies, you are supposed to watch them, not sit there memorizing the credits. Anyway, it was a mystery about a lady who got stuck sitting her husband’s mother. All her husband ever did was come by, smoke a cigarette, and leave her to do all the work. One day, the lady noticed the late afternoon sun had been focused by a table lamp and almost lit some newspapers on fire.
The next day she didn’t move the newspapers and the place burned down, killing the mother. She was so guilty she could not eat or sleep. She refused to move into the new house with her husband and kids, became a nut case. The husband, talking to his brother about how bad she had gotten also said he was having extra stress dealing with it, because he had intentionally left his cigarette burning earlier the same day and he purposely caused the fire.
That quip I just made about the movies is the reason I can’t go on trivia shows. They ask questions about who said what or directed what. To me, I could not care less, just whether or not it is a good movie. I’m reminded of that director, Steven Speilberg. He grew up around movie equipment and had produced films by the age of 12. It therefore makes me flabbergasted that his “talent” is so highly rated, especially since half his material is stereotyped rubbish. Really, midgets in teddy bear costumes? Aliens into jazz-rock fusion? Again I usually finish the book or movie first and then size up whether it is worthwhile finding out who created it. Most of the time it is not.
Makes me wonder what I might have done had I access to cameras and film at such an early age and if he “had so goddam much energy” he had to go chop the firewood. So I am going to spend an evening watching DVDs, and I’m going to fast forward past any printing of any kind that clutters up my screen. Why, I’ll show them.
Oh yes, a guy walking past today asked about Wallace. I was under the car so I didn’t chat, but he was well-dressed and looked a lot like Capt. Highliner. I told him to check back in a few weeks anyway. Right now, I have no word about when Wallace arrives.
I’ve got nine or ten songs I can sing. This takes time, and for me it is an exponentially larger task than just adding the words. I’m not worried, I remember how complicated adding the low-hat seemed at first. I’ll put in the time, but right now my whole act has to be transfigured. I’m too busy for anything else, why right now in the cupboard I’ve got cat food but no soup. I want some kind of Italian soup with the tomatoes in it. One day I’ll look at all this and laugh.
