Well, shut my mouth. There appears to be some kind of celebration taking place up the street from the Hammer Mill. Maybe we should mosey on over there. Or maybe not. This street’s getting a little rough. (I don’t mean crime-wise. I mean the pavement’s in pieces, as in potholes the size of a Buick … some with Buicks stuck in them.)
It’s a natural fact – we need to get out more. Big Green is getting house bound, or mill-bound, if you will. Part of it is our reluctance to play gigs anywhere on planet Earth. That is, admittedly, a failing of ours. Mea culpa. I don’t know why we don’t perform on our mother world. Maybe it’s the gravity. My keyboards weigh a ton on earth, but when we play, say, Phobos, I can pick them up with one hand. Sure, there aren’t a lot of music fans there … none, in fact, but setting up is a breeze!
We’ve been asked to consider playing a club or a college here on Terra. Why, just last week, Marvin (my personal robot assistant) said we should set up in the old man bar on the corner and jam until they boot our sorry asses back into the road. Inartfully put, perhaps, but his corroded tin heart was in the right place. So the other night I dropped in at that joint, sat there and stared at the piano for a couple of hours. I didn’t make any noise, so I left. I’m going back again tonight to see if there’s a different outcome.
Old man bar on Earth, zero-gravity lounge on Neptune – it doesn’t make much difference to us where we play, so long as we know what the hell we’re playing. I’ve never been good at set lists, but I know that if someone on stage picks the songs, it’s less likely that we’ll have to play a bunch of stuff people ask us to play. Like something by the Scorpions, for instance.
Whoa, is that the time? Time to go out in the street and be sociable. Talk soon.
The media, as always, is in the tank for this war. On the morning after bombing began in Syria, the first voice you heard on NPR’s 6:00 a.m. newscast was that of a retired general who had “crafted” America’s bombing campaign during the Gulf War – a man who thought we weren’t bombing Syria hard enough. That’s NPR, no surprise, but don’t expect any better from the liberal media. Rachel Maddow, while a war skeptic, gave a thumbnail recent history of the Iraqi Kurds and the Gulf War that might have been torn out of a Bush campaign media release. Our only role in that saga, according to this telling, was liberating freedom-loving Kuwait and helping the Kurds preserve evidence of Saddam’s pogrom against them.
Oh, hi. Yep, it’s that time of year again. The ba-roke period, as our dear departed friend Tim Walsh used to say. Fighting the cat for scraps, except that we would never do that. In times of want, we have occasionally resorted to eating doll house food. Dibs on the plastic baloney! (Hey, don’t scoff … it’s actually not that much worse than tofu baloney.)