March 7, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 7, 2014, some lite programming.
Five years ago today: March 7, 2010. always waiting their turn.
Ten years ago today: March 7, 2005, the CD riddle.

MORNING
           I think we can cancel the idea of jamming with the guys from last night. They did not show up at the beach at the appointed 10:30 AM. When I called at 10:40 AM, they said 12:00. When did they call? Just before 1:00 PM as I was hauling my groceries in the door. I think I prefer something a little more organized, guys. Plus, they had that annoying habit of writing off all their foibles and inconsistencies with the phrase “we don’t play for money”. The all-purpose loser’s excuse.

           They further feel that playing for free somehow endorses their general bad performance standards. I should have been suspicious when they claimed they played near the Hollywood bandshell. There are a number of reasons. First, the beach patrol does not allow guitar players on the beach. Second, they kept “forgetting” to mention that the area is blocked off by construction zones for the Margaritaville resort, shown here.
           I waited from 10:30 until 12:30, so don’t say I wasn’t patient. I looked around to see the only place they could really have played is that pub that opens earlier than all the others. There was no mention of drinking, but my idea of a new band is not one that starts shlupping draught at ten in the morning. Oh yeah, they don’t play for money, I almost forgot.

           When I paused to review the audition, I spotted more inconsistencies. These are not always obvious as I’ve explained. Many guitarists have developed extreme methods of disguising their inadequacies, so it is best to wait until after before making any decisions. Plus, auditions only appear to be undemanding. There is plenty going on at once, making auditions actually fantastically complicated affairs.
           But a couple things were missing from the music. I realize now the guitarist did not play a proper intro to any of his songs. He did the amateur chord–only-while-singing. Nor did he cage through any of the instrumental breaks. Not even the intro to Margaritaville, which I can play on the bass. Whenever I told him the song was in G, he asked, “What are the other chords?”
           He also wanted me to call out the chords (so much for his big sermon on following) , whence I found out he means not just the first verse and chorus, but for the entire song. When I sort of hinted that most music had a certain repetitious nature, he was stunned and asked, “You mean on the bass?”
           Remember dear reader, Florida is filled to the brim and gills with that variety of full-retard nobodies. And they all think they are fantastic. They think nothing of wasting your time like they just wasted mine. In fact, they are probably on their second round by now, discussing how the new guy “didn’t have the proper patience and flexibility for their needs”. Or something similar.

NOON

           "If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around." (Farm wisdom)

           I found out Johhny D is playing at the Walkabout, so I may go visit. They’ve done some renovating, shown here is a new table where there was once deep shrubbery. This is an easy 5 to 9 gig and I discovered I still get my entertainer’s discount on bottled beer. This important, as frightening prices have driven the tourists away nor will I pay twice the downtown price. So I rarely see the beach.

           Oddly, a frumpy old lady put the squeeze on me. She had seen me walk into the pub and order a soda. And my familiarity with the staff and that I was carrying a guitar case. She kind of went through a few motions that fell somewhat short of what it would take to keep my interest. So, I kind of made it clear I wasn’t interested. She weighed half again what I did. I should introduce her to the new band. They also were drinking beer by noon.

           For the record, I did not plan to audition with this band. They talked me into that. I wanted somebody to lay down some backing tracks that could play rhythm guitar better than I could. Now I’m reminded of what John Lennon said when told Ringo was not the best drummer in the world. “Hell, Ringo isn’t the best drummer in the Beatles.”
           Ah, here she is. The blonde from Dallas. I did not take this picture intentionally and anyhow, she is looking away. I was trying to figure out a way to keep the bright backgrounds from washing out with this camera. That vehicle in the background is a cardboard cutout, advertising that is mounted on the back of the bicycle where the lady is standing. The beach is in the distance. And the blonde is on the left, looking away, with the ponytail.

AFTERNOON
           You need a laugh? Take a look at what the Nobel Prize committee has become. A completely brainwashed politically driven carnival with a hidden agenda. And did you know there is no such thing as the Nobel prize in economics? That was an invention by the Bank of Sweden in 1969 as advertising. And since it was against the wishes of the Nobel foundation, the prize is a fake. Next, they’ll be giving a prize to them damn penguins. But, you’re right. Who wants to think about phony prizes unless they have to?
           The point is I was researching not Nobel, but the background behind a movie I am thinking of seeing, called Mr. Kaplan. It’s at the foreign cinema. Check back with me later to see if I went. What I was looking up was the true nature of all these stories one hears of Nazis escaping to South America. The country that keeps coming up is not Argentina, but Paraguay. It turns out, since there is no census and no valid international law against German “war criminals”, that Paraguay may or may not be harboring some of these people.

EVENING
           Yes, I saw the film. And the theater was packed. I had to sit in the front row. I can’t tell you often enough that these foreigners have learned the art of movie production. They still can’t pick themes that appeal to the mass numbers of American idiots, but the cinematography is perfect plus all those other categories in the credits nobody reads. This movie’s theme was about two Uruguayans (yep, I mixed up the two countries) who think they’ve discovered a Nazi.

           You know right away they are wrong, but the movie is still a hoot. Ignore the pro-Israeli influences and the plot is realistic. And the ending is more of a quirk than a surprise. I identified more with the Latino ex-cop than the other characters. It helps to keep in mind that the Holocaust is not shoved on everybody in South America from birth anything like the scale it is here. That means they while they don’t disbelieve it happened, they are far harder to convince that it happened the version we’ve been told.

           Produced in Uruguay, this film is in Spanish, which despite being a repetitious language, is expertly translated for the sub-titles. Also, the subtitles are short, so the educated can read the entire sentence at a glance and miss none of the movie.
           I say the movie is worth it, but also worth waiting for the video. Your choice. Still, at $8 for the foreign cinema, it’s worth it just to keep your name off the mailing lists. I paused after for a mug of hot tomato soup in the rain. I had to ponder this new band situation. It’s difficult to reach a firm decision but here are two fact: They don’t know anybody I know, which like the last band, is immediately raises a flag. And for all their claims of decades of experience, they still make dozens of little errors that show they are undoubtedly lying about something, for sure. Time to wait and see.


Last Laugh
Plot twist: this is Detroit.

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