Stick around and I’ll be talking music again, or specifically the industry of recorded music. It will be a good weekend now, and by that I mean quiet. I got taken on a book by the oldest mistake I make in that area. Before buying, it makes sense to read a paragraph at the front, middle, and back of a book to check the style and content. Once again, I got home to find those three passages were the only good parts. You go back and read it again to make sure that isn’t just one’s imagination. Nope. That’s about the twentieth time I’ve fallen for it. Is there a name for this phenomenon?Bingo is drawing to a close [meaning I'm going to quit the position] for a variety of reasons. I’ll be [removing and then] setting the entire PA system here in the new music area [over here]. The long-term [financial] margins for the show have fallen below replacement and maintenance costs, for we who watch such things. For example, the new disc player and cables will take a month's income to replace. There is bad news for another staff member, a near fatal medical problem. Don’t be blaming Jimbos, for everyone there (including myself) is inner bell curve [on the life expectancy graph]. There is a 95% chance I won’t last another ten years because my innards ain’t built for it. But be kind to Jimbos as I’ve known many of these folks for years now. And that counts for something.
Wanted: Mobile home with land, rent-to-own. That sounds like me. Has the spring rush begun? Saturday mornings are a good time to check and there were six new units on the market. But these are still in places I don’t want to live, like Davie and West Hallandale. These are insular little towns blockaded by suburbia. But I’m on the lookout, see today’s addendum for a better description [of the market, the prices, and my options].
I met a remarkable but married lady at the bakery a few months ago. Today we chatted and she has an incredible grasp on European history. We discussed the Treaty of Versailles and collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, including the preludes to the Great War. You get so many people with warped versions of history (“the Jews stole Israel”) that it is refreshing to talk with someone who knows which facts are indisputable. It’s been so long that some of my own references got lazy and she corrected me. (That’s not United Nations, but League of Nations, type of thing.)
We have agreed to swap books with historical themes. Good, I’ve half-memorized everything in this place. This gal has studied with what we used to call “dedication and joy”. It has been close to fifteen years since I’ve met such a person. Careful, I did not say I never met anyone during that time. I've met plenty of people. But not one of them was a broad-minded guitar player.
Broad-minded? That’s correct, I’ve met lots but they are, career-wise, clones. Not open to new trials or music, just spinning their tires. Some are incredible musicians, but to a one pay homage to the faded concept of solo guitarist as undiscovered troubadour-minstrel. And the empty years fly by. So powerful is the Hendrix-Clapton fame-narcotic that not one of these players will learn any new or different music to get out of that rut. I have never met a performing guitarist in Florida who learned even one of my songs. (Some played tunes they already knew that matched my list, but no new input. Ever. Not even one.)
This insanity against learning somebody else’s music is a substantial Florida problem. When I look back on my musical non-career, there is no endless string of dusty bars and lonesome road trips for me to empathize with these people. Hell no, I played long term house gigs and lounges, usually with trios. I may be unique in having played some forty “town halls”, a now extinct event. Unlike these guitar-heroes who pack up after every show, my house gigs last years on end. Yet, I cannot find one [guitarist] who will even try. It would be wrong to blame individuals because the real problem is systemic. They are addicted to standardized failure.
Allow me to explain that when I lambaste these guitarists, it is not out of envy. I am frustrated by the way they think and act alike, and also because as a class they seem less willing to take the only chance they have for success. By comparison, I’ve revamped my act probably ten times. Another point is the distinction between has-been and never-was. Which am I? On a level playing field, I’ll match what I’ve done against anyone I’ve personally met. But that field is not level enough to let the weaker members see far enough to even know where they stand.
Our age is where success is measured only by American-style fame and fortune. There exists an illusion that "talent" is the sole remaining shortcut available to the nice guy. (Nonsense, the land if full of talented failures.) The music industry knows damn well each new act has sold themselves on a dream that only exists in the magazines that let us deny that the stars are really tough businessmen in a cold and empty game with a perfect divorce rate one step ahead of the tax man. It should surprise nobody that I don’t generally record music.
The naked truth is that these guitarists don't realize there are no talent scouts in any of the places they perform. Tiki bars, smoky saloons, inland pubs, and the often talked about but rarely played pool parties; these are not where the brass hangs out. That's where my lounge experience comes in. You do actually meet people with connections in lounges, particularly lounges located in a hotel. They are at least a degree of separation closer to music production moguls than the Florida run of the mill studios that try to pass the soundman off as a marketing guru. I hate to burst the local bubble, but no, you don't ask a real promoter if he wants to go out back and light up a fat one.
ADDENDUM
For clarity, I’ll go over the buy versus rent situation in Florida regarding mobile homes. Like many, I had an initial aversion to mobile homes as “trailer parks”. Florida has those, but if you scout around, there are mobile homes in every, repeat every, prosperous area and many are well appointed. Like most of Florida, however, all except the very best properties are now in decay. Trailer court lot rentals were a bargain five to seven years ago when the fee centered near $300 to $330 per month. Or as I liked to say, five bucks per person per day.
There are two types of arrangements that involve a monthly payment. They are a pad rental fee (what I have now) or a land association where the expenses are shared condo-like between the residents. Either is unacceptable [to me] in the long run. I have never seen rents go down. And I’m leery of all common costs.
Right now I am paying $480 per month pad rental. That is why I want out. Despite the undeniable recession going on, rents have been increased every year, the fabled roller coaster to bankruptcy. I’ll describe my situation and let you decide what you would do. It’s not a simple decision, so weigh the choices carefully.
I have right now enough to buy a similar but much bigger mobile home in a nice area like Boca, but without the land, meaning a lot rental. The same savings amount is a good down payment on a place with the land, but local banks won’t touch mobile homes. The remaining option is to wait another year by which time I will not require any financing. The stickler is the pad rents have shot up so much in the past five years as to be comparable to mortgage payments—if I could finance. So let’s look at prices.
It has become possible to purchase a mobile home with the land in a decent area, like Boca Raton or West Palm, in the $60,000 range. In some places such as Vero Beach (too far away) it is already cheaper by several hundred dollars per month to buy than to rent. Since the tight-money policy shows no signs of changing and I’d like to move now, this explains my present interest in rent-to-own. Yes, it I could find the right deal, I’d start packing.
Every spring there is a jump in places for sale. It is easy to understand why somebody with a place down here would “keep it another winter” in case prices rise. But spring is the real buyer’s market. Some of these places are really nice and if Wallace had kept his word, we’d probably own two of them by now. But he and his gang got laughed out of town. You might say a fool and his money are soon departed.
