here i am, at quitting time, just now approaching a position of relative verticality. feeling a bit fizzy. i blame this on my affinity for PBR bottles. i blame my affinity for PBR bottles on my lack of appropriate funding for Guinness.
so here i be, listing a little to one side, squinting at the screen. i heard some good music last night. started out loaning my guitar to a cowboy named jack. all his friends have died except five, and his girlfriend ran off with stevie ray vaughn, so he had some things to sing about. we tried to play norwegian wood but only the bartender knew the words, and he was watching CSI. so we struggled through country roads until the other two people in the bar put money in the jukebox.
this cowboy named jack called my guitar a gitbox, and said it was a good one. it does have good sound. i told him i was going to record him once i start the tavern sessions. i haven’t told denny-o yet about me recording in his bar, but i guess he’ll hear about it sooner or later.
whisk away, for me, to the sandbar. this place reminds me of clubs i used to play in first college. first college is the first time i went to college, a school of design in raleigh, north carolina. during first college i was in a funkadelia sort of band called ‘coital coffee’. we had a kiss cover, and a t-rex cover, and originals as well. then i dropped out of school four times and joined a circus and that was first college. i’m in second college now. in second college i attempt to procure a biology degree to go with my fifteen years of animal training (behavior) experience, which began with that circus and ended up in hollywood.
good thing i didn’t end up in hollywood.
second college isn’t too exciting, so far. mostly i harden my heart to all the atrocities i commit against the lowly fruit fly (Drosophila melanogaster), and i whistle little songs in the hallways. not very exicitng, but then again, the circus hasn’t come back to town yet.
sometimes i wonder if i still have one foot in hollywood. my credit cards say no. but i am in a small town now, and i feel like i still feel some residual… show business… not like ‘ta da’… more like ‘trouble with a capital T’…
and sometimes i am a little sad because i was a kid here wondering about what magic there was in the world for me. and now i think what magic there is is what magic you carry with you. and so i tried to bring a little home, for the other kids.
well, speaking of bringing it home, with a capital H, ‘lower class blues’ was playing at the sandbar, and playing it good. i have heard some blues, and this i call blues. jake goes off on the guitar. he goes out there, and brings it back. at first i wondered how those local boys learned the blues, and then i thought, well, they are from delaware. a person could learn the blues in delaware.
i put a song here on pirateradio.tid. if you like guitar…
so after a coupla guitar solos and a coupla of Guinness bottles i could hardly afford (that i swear must have only been half full, quick as they disappeared), there i was smack dab in the middle of the magic. i had a pretty good hold on the magic by that point, to tell the truth. then there was another band from philly which equally rocked, called stuntditch. they were classic. songs to follow soon.
and so, late last night, keenly aware of the sheer nobility of the bartending profession, i tipped exorbitantly, invited everyone around me to help make a skateboarding movie, and happily bumbled home.
somewhat approaching verticality now.
