December 3, 2014

           I missed the morning waiting in line for a blood test, which totally famishes me so I stopped at the first open café. My guitar buddy was there and showed me the 11 bookings they have for this month. A quick glance tells me they’ll net close to 5k each this season. Every weekend and some days two separate gigs. It’s country music all the way, old country as in pre-1989 only. Why is it I could never find one guitarist in the state who would just stand there and strum? Because all the good ones are taken, that’s why.

           How do you think that makes me feel? Like this alien doggie in the picture from the bakery, that’s how I feel. Those eyes! Eighteen months I was with my last band and we never made a tenth of that [much money] between us, much less each. Yeah, I see red. I do not know how anybody who knows me as a musician can even claim to think it is my hobby.
           It is my job and doing things my way makes money. Entertainment represents 100% of my discretionary income. Given the opportunity, I can make a living at music. Somehow, I met every bozo in town who says they had no idea I was in it for the money. American music is the ultimate competitive business. I can sing for my supper—why am I stuck constantly dealing with people who can’t? Seriously.
           To add to that, I have not seen one successful startup band in this county since I got here a decade ago. Oh, I’ve seen lots of recombinations around a shrinking cadre of old-timers, but new? Never seen it yet. I’ve come close a few times, but even I can’t budge the local dead weight.

           Here’s the random events of the day. Ready? Okay, you would have won the $20 from y’day if you’d bet me. The perp was not Cuban, but a black career criminal they let out of jail last week. He shot his ex-girlfriend—isn’t is amazing how women will date felons and never get blamed for a thing—and then her new boyfriend. Shot six times. He dead. And the perp is still on the run up in Boca. I still think the news should broadcast the names of the people who let these guys out. He had a record of criminal violence dating back 17 years.

           Here’s an ounce of silver from the Sunshine Mint. Aw, such a pretty name, so cute. This got automatically picked up by my purchase order before I could cancel. Up $1.25 in the one day before I could react—my order stays open for 12 hours, I shortened it to 4 to combat these overnight market flips. I see the arrangement now, they drop the price just after the US markets close, snap up the panic sales, and rake it in when New York opens the next morning. Simple, highly illegal, and you can’t prove a thing.
           But while you are here, what gives with the silver market? The word on the street is the Islamic State, knowing they can’t win militarily, are planning on issuing a gold-backed currency within the year. This is quite clever on a number of levels. We’ve taught them how the money system works without obeying our own rules. A gold-back currency keeps its value. Fake money, like the US and Canadian dollars, are in big trouble. As the paper money plummets, there will be a stop at nothing demand for the gold currency.

           The Arabs have also studied what to do once they gain control the world-wide money supply. They need only follow our example, and do so deliberately and much, much quicker. It will work because the US can’t back up just a part of their money supply. It has to be all the greenbacks or nothing and there isn’t enough wealth in the world to cover the US money already out there. This time the world knows there ain’t no gold in Ft. Knox. So if you don’t have any precious metal of your own buried in the woodshed, well, tough noogies, I guess.
           I got myself a haircut and all my chasing around done. The red scooter is faithfully delivering 66 mpg in the city. The barber and I talked retirement. I’m hearing horror stories from Belize as a retirement destination. Vacation yes, but to live there is to find out the true nature of MesoAmerican politics. People who buy and settle are telling of being increasingly the targets of shakedowns for money. Including the army showing up and searching their property and 30-day “detentions” so they can “reconsider” donations to local causes.

           Next, over to Guitar Center. I got a music strap and replaced my missing capo. Sixteen bucks. That’s part of my incentive to play the way I do and why I’m in a different league than the wannabes with their day jobs. I know the effect my job had on my music and I could not likely have done what I’m doing twenty years ago. As much as the next kid, I didn’t like “old guy” bands until now I are one. And I’m teaching myself a lesson. The kid with the capgun is for balance, it has nothing to do with the blog. But he is a famous person.
           Said lesson is how, over the years, I’ve related my bass playing can make any guitarist sound better. (Alas, the guitarist always thinks it is him.) Now that I’m on guitar, it amounts to putting my words to the ultimate test. The good news is it seems to be working. Don’t run out and buy a guitar, there Is far more to this than the sayin’. I believe my bass style is new and different for the times, but stop short of saying I invented anything. What’s going on is I’ve been coaching Trent on the bass so naturally I tend to demo the way I would play it.
           The result is encouraging, you can almost hear a third instrument playing. This is intentional, with bass runs that emulate drum beats, saxophone riffs, and foot stomping. I like it because it really does make my guitar playing sound a lot better—and phooey on all those guitar players who would not even give it a chance. Now that I’m on guitar, I, ahem, find it incredibly easy to follow my own advice.

           Author’s note: to be fair, I did have a few guitar players who played a song or two at rehearsal the way I wanted it. The sound was great, it was novel, and every last mother’s son of them saw that it meant sharing the limelight, that they would not be the star of the show. And that is as far as it ever got.

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Today’s Togla Treat
He would have wanted to go that way.

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