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Yesteryear

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

January 6, 2015


MORNING
           In another sign our club is progressing, I was able to invert the operation of the normally closed switches. It doesn’t work perfect, but I have my red scooter back without having to open the seat to get at the battery compartment every time I want to start up. This is the finished product, that was one greasy grimy job. This might cause a few smiles that something like this made the blog, but such a task was unthinkable around here not that long ago.
           While “under the hood”, I see that my horn somehow got wet and needs replacing. How did that happen? Here’s a tale from the trailer court. As I changed my into my work clothes an old dollar bill must have fell out of my shirt pocket. The neighbor found it lying on my stoop. He asked if I get women into my bedroom by leaving a trail of dollars?
           I didn’t get it. But I did ask him how it is was he even thought of things like that. Then I got it, and shortly afterward, I got the intended joke. Geez, I must be slow. But not as slow as his wife must be.

           Up I went to Home Depot to get the wiring and hardware for my new starter. On the return leg, that lady over on Cedar waves me over, I’ve never talked to her before. The one with the long grey hair that walks her dog all day. Yes, ma’am, what do you want? Would I, she asks, stop my scooter and walk it past whenever I see her because the motor scares her dog. I told her, lady, I have good news. The whole trailer court used to think you are crazy, but that’s changed. I no longer think you crazy, rather just ordinary inconsiderate and incredibly self-centered. That seemed to make her happy.
           Trivia. I noticed today those plastic wine corks are the identical diameter as PVC plumbing pipe. Hmmmm. But the wine tasted okay anyway. Or at least, didn't taste any worse than usual.

NOON
           Oil at $50 per barrel, that is not necessarily good. I’ll explain. While some rejoice at $2 gas, the talk that this means that people have more money to spend. Lower prices do not create money, the people have the same amount as before and doesn’t matter where they spend it. What’s not obvious is that over the last decade, ever-higher per barrel prices were disguising the more serious problem of declining demand. Economies like Saudi Arabia cannot survive for long without a minimum price of around $80 per barrel. Canada’s oil sands faces a similar problem.
           In a sense, what the economists tried to do in the seventies is finally underway. Lifestyles have changed and vehicles have become more efficient. Combined with less driving, loss of industry, renewable technology, and the general move of the west away from wasteful usage is, I deduce the beginning of a long-term lowering of demand. And another lesson that it takes two generations for a cultural changes to have any effect.
           OPEC views the drop as a temporary slump, but it does represent the largest price drop ever, and it dropped from the highest price ever. They can’t be happy about that demonstration of volatility. The long term projection is for oil demand to rise, but that is because of developing countries. Either way, there are millions of dollars per day not leaving America and that will have some effect shortly. I’m watching.
           Today’s Herald had seven articles on the “victory” of gay marriage, as if everyone does know by now which way that paper leans. They’ve been running an article a day for years on the topic and somewhere, they finally found a Florida Judge trying for some brownie points. It establishes a sad precedent. Nor do I appreciate their attitude that one cannot be pro-tradition without being “anti-gay”, because I do not believe in special rights for any sub-group.
           The sad truth is, the system caved to a fringe special interest group that has never shown an ounce of consideration for the society whose traditions they are destroying with their selfish, narcissistic agenda. And if anyone thinks this concession will finally shut the queers up, wrong. The homos are not quitting now until queer lessons are on the curriculum. As Anita Bryant said fifty years ago, since they can’t produce their own children, they have to recruit yours.

NIGHT
           Another successful rehearsal. As we progress, it is gradually clearer that we are a one-off band of some kind. The majority of our practice time is music theory in the sense of what sounds best. We were able to fake two songs we’ve never played before using technique only. That’s a shortcut that we need, the ability to fake songs without comping. I’ve always jammed this way and it is significantly different than following the guitarist. Trent is one of the few who listened and is now on his way.
           The other aspect of not comping is that you don’t have to be totally original. You merely have to give the majority of the audience something amusing that they’ve never heard before. Often it is as basic as altering the motif of the bass line depending on what part of the song is being played. Since this is extra work, it is too often not done. We have incorporated it from the start.

           Ready for a laugh? Trent and I dropped in at the local pub, where our influence is solidly in place. Gee, folks, it is okay to play country music on the jukebox. This joint is just up the road from here and Trent has not been there often enough to spot that we already have a solid influence on the atmosphere. We play country music on the jukebox, which others were hesitant to do before. It seems they just needed us to learn that it was okay. You can walk into the place now and hear classic redneck.
           Oh yes, the laugh. Double humor for me, because I have tons of experience being around the type of people get by on the attitude they are just as good as you are--and insist on it. Trent casually mentions that he’s got a government phone. This fat lady at the other end of the bar holds up her Obama-phone and says, “I got one, too!”

ADDENDUM
           There you have it, the advertisement for the perfect bass position in a working band. On Craigslist. Two problems, though. It is twenty years and forty miles both in the wrong direction. A set list right out of my past, it’s the band I was so desperately seeking in Miami – but back in 2000 when I played that kind of music. It pays $70 per week for a three set gig. And showing only a couple tunes on their list I’ve never played before. It is too far away or I’d snap it up.
           There is a Sunday gig, 90 minutes, pays $50 every week. The music is all charted out. But I’m not into playing at church, not since I was 13 and conducted the choir. In case anyone missed that, I was the conductor and organist, not a member of the choir. That is also a very sad story which I probably already told somewhere nearby. So it is not like there isn’t any work for a bassist. But I’d rather have the good money that ain’t steady.
           It has been three months since I was in a band and oddly, for the first time, I don’t miss the last band. You could be the best bassist on the planet would still be a flunky in that band. Ah, well, that band is capped right where they are unless they change that attitude, which is not going to happen. I never played in a band where I had less influence. To them, the bassist is support staff. No way could they deal with somebody who thought differently about that.

Last Laugh

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