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Yesteryear

Monday, July 12, 2010

July 12, 2010

           Only in America. If spying is defined as living here illegally while shipping back valuables to one’s home country, Arizona law isn’t tough enough. Have you seen the babe they are sending back to Russia? She can spy on me any time and is living proof the CIA are all, you-know. At least she was paying taxes. No wonder nobody trusts the government any more. They don’t ask the people who should be shipped back. Or allowed here in the first place. But, that is also the voter’s fault. They are too busy playing Mr.-Nice-Guy while they lose the majority.
           More America. What does a business do during a recession? Accept lower earnings or go under, right? The last thing you do when times are bad is raise prices. Unless, of course, you are the US Postal Service. They want to raise the price (from 44 to 46 cents) claiming this is “an emergency”. I say that set a bad precedent and instead, shut down all redundant outlets and close on Mondays. Like a real business.
           Guitar Dave showed up this morning, with a host of explanations and saying he would drop by at 4:00 PM. He made it around quarter to seven. I put him through the paces and it is clear he has not listened to the disk I provided, plus he is woefully out of practice. He had a brand new Stratocaster, but the strings were tuned an octave low and the bridge needs setting. Dave was disturbingly unfamiliar with all his equipment, including his Korg tuner.
           The bright side is he quickly spotted what I meant about the difference between a real duo act and two soloists in collaboration. We ran through ten tunes, all classics, but I got the impression he had never heard any of them. That is not a problem, I showed him the 5-Oh-5 video to assure him memorizing songs is not necessary to put on a dynamite show. Dave must have played a solo act back when he did, because his timing is bad and he overplayed the parts that he knew.

           After 8:30 PM, we drove out to the Hollywood Moose Lodge. I’d been invited by some bingo patrons. This was an excellent move. Practically everybody in the place hooted my name as we walked in, it literally took ten minutes to shake hands and hug the ladies. For a joint out on 441 and Hallandale, it was packed on a Monday, I estimate 58 people and they said it was a slow night. This merits a full report.
           All the regular weekend staff from Jimbos were there. Also Laura, you remember Hi’s sister, that does the Karaoke. The dance floor is huge by Florida standards, and it is a dancing crowd. For a Moose, there was a large number of younger people present and often up to 15 couples dancing. You don’t usually see that near the coast. Lots of cowboy hats and cowgirls. The club owner was serving behind the bar and was a bingo winner two weeks ago. I’ve got his open invitation to perform any time, and this place clearly has the money to pay for entertainment. It is a country music locale, period.
           I’m glad Dave saw all this, since his presence was pure coincidence—he showed up as I was on my way out the door. It is a nine mile round trip, so I’ll have to plan ahead carefully. Dave is also a patron of Arty’s (Wallace, this is the pub on Federal Highway we stopped in at 4:30 AM on the way back from the Ft. Lauderdale airport one thirsty morning last year). Dave also knows a few clubs down in the Keys, which I would truly like to play some time. Especially if one can negotiate a place to stay for an entire week, off season of course.

           At the Moose, I sang a couple of standards and brought down the house. I know that any new talent gets attention, but this was also the first time that my bingo people have heard me sing. It was something to see, and I’m glad Dave was there, as a lot of people have preconceived notions about how a bass player is to behave on stage. I had the crowd eating out of my hand, and bragging rights aside, this is nothing new to me and I understand some guitarists don’t like it. I seem to have two ranges, a medium low but not baritone, and a medium high, which I call Jimmy Buffet. I’m still finding my voice, but I can now manage comfortably in both ranges.
           If Dave is ever going to get enthused, it is now. He dropped me off promising to get on his guitar every spare moment. He is quite aware that the only thing stopping us is his end of things now that he has seen he is walking into an almost ideal situation for a rhythm player. He does need plenty of practice, so check back.

           Author's note 2015-07-12: in the end, Dave didn't have 1% of the required skill or dedication. He became one in a long string of rejects, all guitar players who over-promised and under-delivered. I had yet to learn this was the Florida norm.]

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