There are times I get asked why I got out of rock music. It was the music I originally played, but that was partially in rebellion against what I considered “old fogie”. I never liked jazz or Broadway, I didn’t like the type of people who liked country, and Blues puts me to sleep. The specific tune that turned me off to rock was “Iron Man”.
I was never mystified by medieval fairy tales and monsters. Take a look at this poster for a Miami band (Horde of Creeps) seeking a bass player. I wonder if they do any Jimmy Buffett? What amused me was that their ad stated they wanted a bassist who “can do a little more that play the guitar lines on bass”. [Author’s note: these guys are not kids, they are in my age group and I’ve heard them play live. It is heavy metal and yes, I’ve heard their promos such as “Don’t Feed It To Me”. And yes, I could play it. But isn’t it so strange how head-bangers could possibly, possibly (twice) have the same issues as I have concerning pecker-brained guitarists who think “bass is easy”?]
Here’s a heads-up on the newest scam making the rounds. I was suspicious the first time and I’ve heard it six times since then. I almost got a photo today but I was too close to the action. It goes like this. Some guy on a bicycle stops you in the parking lot; he’s got a small gas can. Can you spare a dollar for gas? You see, his wife works in Ft. Lauderdale and he drives an older Capris with a bad gas gauge. He was on his way to pick her up when he ran out of gas.
Wasn’t it awfully convenient of him to have a spare bicycle and a brand new gas can? Because there are no gas stations anywhere near the Publix on Hallandale. If it was me, I’d head toward, not away, from the nearest pumps. The idea is you feel sorry and give him $5.00 to fill the gas can. You, not me. I’ve lived here eleven years.
Don’t you love the way potheads justify getting fried by saying it is a soft drug, that it doesn’t have the same effects of alcohol. The pot paradise of Holland is banning the use for tourists, and many Dutch border towns have closed their “coffee shops”. Per GlobalPost.com, it seems they are fed up with all the nuisance and criminal activity. Could it be that potheads, for all their jabber about harmless and medicinal use, are turning out to be nothing but, well, potheads?
The remainder today is just guy-talk, so stop here if you are a critic. JZ and I may troop out to Churchill’s soon, for old time’s sake. Many of you won’t have read back far enough to know, but JZ and I don’t go out chasing women all that often because he is stunned that I turn down women I don’t like. (Oddly, most Florida men have plenty of experience with rejection but only the wrong way around.) He has never forgiven me for brushing off a gorgeous brunette that I did not know every guy in the house was after before I got there. That was at Churchill’s in 2002 and she wasn’t my type.
JZ does not care that she was what I call a born-again virgin. (You know, the divorce material that plays hard to get after she’s in a relationship.) The point is there are a variety of reasons I will turn down older women and JZ disagrees with them all. Like most men, he believes you get what you can and spend the rest of the acquaintance trying to hash out who promised what.
JZ feels turning down a piece of ass ruins our chances with other women in the place. He does not understand how women think, finds it confusing. I don’t. I like a club where there are constantly new women coming and going, whereas JZ likes to corner one lady and work on her all evening. He can waste $50 on drinks and get no closer than I do in five minutes.
Our opposite tastes in women should mean we get along grand out on the town, but the fact is I break the ice 99% of the time. If I don’t move in for the kill, JP is at a loss of what to say to the one I brought over for him. All the above is old material, I’m repeating it for effect. I also repeat I am not after a fling, I am looking for a woman to live with, and yes, I am picky on that count. I’ve had more than one close call lately.
Being cautious is not the same as expecting too much. The people who confuse the two can never define “too much”, so they are just being jerkfaces. Too much is when you want something you don’t offer in return. Women are far guiltier of pretense to get what they want than I ever was. Old women have borderline insane illusions about romance. I prefer to be practical. I personally am not the least intimidated by any woman’s ability to earn more than I do, grow emotionally stronger over time, and/or develop new skill-sets that are, shall we say, decade-appropriate.
