One year ago today: April 28, 2017, a proud day of puttering.
Five years ago today: April 28, 2013, bass critique, point form.
Nine years ago today: April 28, 2009, no more baloney.
Random years ago today: April 28, 2011, . . . then they attack.
I’ll tell you what’s weird. Two weeks ago I bought a brand new shirt at the Thrift, one of the usual striped “typical” designs that look good on stage. I’ve twice washed it since. The thing is, the fabric has a faint aroma of bubblegum. I didn’t spot it at first, is this something new? The detergent is scented and I use scented dryer sheets, so if anything that is what I should detect. But then I put this shirt on and there it is again. Bubblegum. It must be inside the fabric itself.
Here’s a photo of farm equipment, I pass on the road to Winter Haven. From what I can tell, these belong to one single factory, or a factory that owns the farms. This is what happens in America when you get a head start. Most people would be hard pressed to buy or own one of these wagons. By that I meant they’d have to borrow money. When I see an array like this, I always imagine how some people or countries think the USA can be invaded. Farmers like this probably have enough gear to take of that situation.
My guitar player quit without proper notice. It’s the same old story. Once they figure out to be the star of the show, they have to outplay, out sing, out act, out dance, out perform, and out charm me, they quit. Every guitarist wants to be the star, but if they can’t they certainly don’t want to be eclipsed by a bass player. There is some other factor or person involved, somebody egging her on, telling her what she wants to hear. It could be anything, but experience tells me it is the guitar ego thing, usually manifesting itself with them wanting to play the guitar music they’ve memorized over the years until they convince themselves that’s what audiences want.
This one must be blind to think that. How many first grade guitarists (about her level) get standing ovations on their second gig? But you never know what goes on inside some people’s heads. I told her she was making a big mistake, that nobody else will ever be as patient with her as I’ve been. Sixteen weeks to learn a three chord song. What I’ve also seen is the Hippie Disorder, where they can’t learn any song they don’t personally like.
But, like the old saying, each time is failing by less and less. What did we learn on this round? (We being the people around here who are still in a band.) Well, now we know the problem is overwhelmingly in the guitar player’s ego. For whatever else might be a contributory factor, when they get around me even a third-rate guitarist thinks they must either take over or quit. We now for sure we are good enough to take a guitarist as low as first grade level and throw them on stage in under 15 weeks, no matter how badly they muck things up. We have experience dragging sluggish people along for the ride. And we know the concept works beyond, well beyond, expectations.
We are now completely familiar with the stage gear and setup time. We know of undemanding places that love the music selections and we have references now. I don’t know what this lady is thinking, but it likely has something to do with that gal that sings Bobby McGee giving her or her shadow the impression, see, they don’t need me. You should find yourself a place and just do that. Her and fifty like her, vying for a diminishing number of low-paying gigs, The Solo Guitar Rut. Good luck. Other than cramming for gigs, she wasn’t putting in a real hour’s practice between rehearsals and that thing with the instrumentals? Lack of talent, lack of time put in.
[Author’s note: later, going over the records, I see this was another instance of the same old behavior. I must seem pretty sure of myself when I describe this, but you might also consider that I am probably a top expert on this matter. Each instance is different so I do not immediately spot the pattern. It’s “guitar-think” all over again. Let this big-talking bass player go on about what the audience wants and his theory on how to deliver it. Go along with it, pretend to agree, until the band gets on stage. Then, he’ll be shot down in flames as the audience propels the guitar player back into his exalted and rightful position.
This will cower that bass player back into his senses not to mention his position at the back of the stage somewhere. The guitarist will then whip out his song list and state this is the way things will be from now on. The balance of Nature is restored. Now I must consider how this lady guitar player, who never was any good at learning, fooled me for 21 weeks. My suspicion is her daughter or this Facebook friend, who did not go through the process (and thus have only preconceived notions), convinced her to either take over or quit. The DMV aside, they don’t come much stupider than that.]
Hotel Zaandam.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
I worked with the Bondo, it is easier to apply and work with than putty. The directions were unclear because it aid use a 1-1/4” of hardener. In Florida, the hardener is liquid, so not having time to fridge it, I used too little and hours later the repairs aren’t dry. I did a whole bunch of the annoying tasks today and my circular saw gave up the ghost. I tried a number of repairs, but it is something inside the motor casing.
I dunno about “The Coffee Merchant”, that’s really a secondary theme. The story is the Jews whining through history about how rough they got it. Not how rough they make it on themselves. They never admit that, but neither do a lot of other minorities who refuse to assimilate. One that gets my goat is Spanish radio. Most Americans don’t speak any Spanish, but there is a government program that gives them free money to operate radio stations. That’s okay. What I don’t like is what they broadcast. White radio may advertise an investment opportunity or a small business loan. But this Spanish radio, constant advice on how to get government grants, government subsidies, government bail outs. Anything except adopt the America way and do it yourself.
That’s a huge chunk of what’s wrong today. Most Americans do not agree with welfare and would cut it off. But the governments world-wide know that people on welfare or on government jobs will always vote for a living. Best known example they should have learned from is Canada. In the 1960s, the leader expanded to civil service so widely that between that and welfare, a third of the nation was on the payroll. Fifty years later, his grandson is still in charge. Sure they have elections, but they have been more correctly labeled vote auctions. Vote for me and I’ll keep your family welfare checks on the way, you won’t have to pay the $3,600 per month for your grandmother in the subsidized old folk’s home, and your daughter can keep her clerical job at the post office. See, I knew I could count on you to do the right thing. Signed, Justin.
I still can’t get Samm to answer his phone, but I know he’s there. I’ll drive up that way tomorrow and pound on his door. Of course he’ll be awake, he’s got kids. This evening, I’ll begin re-reading “Darwin’s Radio”, about evolution gone haywire. At least it has a plot that stays on course. It won’t be long before I have a spot in the new bedroom for a big comfy chair. I miss my old sleep magnet.
ADDENDUM
The hot dog cart is back in the picture. The guy selling it is running a barbeque today, we know because of where he buys his supplies. Otherwise, he seems nearly disorganized, no real direction, which explains why he is hard to track down and makes such slow decisions. I’ve sent one man over to see him this morning. The financing for the entire operation is now in place over here, including the freezers, the storage canopy, and the security cameras. Three months makes a big difference to the Robot Club. I also talked to Rickford, the third guy I want on team.
I need somebody I can leave in charge. While I like Agt. R’s concept of hiring a couple local cuties to run the stand, what are they going to do when something goes wrong? Also, I watched several videos on how stupidly easy it is to steal these trailers. Thirty seconds. I don’t want it left even overnight if possible, and the one major item not in place is a dedicated tow vehicle. However, keep reading. From the specs I’ve seen, weighs less than half of what the batbike can tow. What a crowd-pleaser that would be, but I won’t dare let anyone else drive that sidecar. There’s a reason those rigs require a special operator’s license.
Yet it is the only vehicle right now that has a proper hitch attached. I’m not driving it, but the papers are up to date. That would be a real draw, just having that parked—and permanently attached to the cart while it is off my property. Steal that and you won’t get very far. Think getting arrested if you don’t break your neck first. You see what I’m saying there? People who might steal a concession wagon probably would decline to do so if it had a conspicuous sidecar clamped on the front of it. And if I can tow the cPod from Miami to Seattle and back, I can tow a hot dog cart to any neighborhood fairgrounds.
An overview of other vendors of this nature in the area shows they don’t advertise. The very presence of a good ole boy like Agt. R assures people will prefer to buy from him. He is still the most popular bartender ever to work this town. “Rocket Dogs”, something like that. He wants to call it. Fine by me.
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
