I Know Jack

As part of my never-ending quest to do silly things, I spent
yesterday jackhammering asphalt. Someone has to do it,
I suppose.

It's not as much of a stretch as it may seem; my father was in the
asphalt paving business. I worked for him for a bunch of years before
leaving for good about twenty-two years ago. The scary part was
the muscle memory was there. After a few minutes of "what the hell
are you doing to me?", my body kind of said, "Oh...yeah, I remember
how to do this stuff."

As an aside - why does it seem that so many musicians
have day jobs and/or skills that are hazardous to their hands??

Anyway, someone I know needed her front and back walkways
removed. So there I was, jackhammering away, with
Master L running around making fun of the way the thing made
me shake. He did help carry some of the rocks away, though.
Knowing him, he was mentally measuring how
much taunting he could do versus how much 'helping, to make
up for it', and balancing it perfectly. That's my boy.

This project was like an archaeological dig: the geniuses who
paved the back walkway had paved right over an old cement drainage
aqueduct - which was why the walkway had a huge crack and hump.
Things that are buried tend to rise. Didn't think of that, did they?
Nah - "throw a few inches of dirt on it, it'll stay down" - um....no.
It doesn't work that way. We took out the parts that COULD be
taken out.

When the first bit of it was uncovered, I thought, "Hooray! It's the top
of a pyramid....call the university....they can dig out the rest".....but,
well, it didn't work out that way.

The unfortunate thing, for my friend who owns the house, is that some
OTHER genius built a back staircase onto the house and put one of the
support columns directly on the buried aqueduct. So someday, that's
moving. But maybe it will be 50 years.

I did come to the conclusion that my next-door neighbour would
REALLY hate having a jackhammer working away all day. So,
when it's time to re-pave MY place, I'm probably going to
do the removal and prep myself!!

Because, "She Don't Know Jack" - there, a cheap reference to
the CD you and everyone else you know should own. HA!

Well, only the back walkway got done yesterday, and the
front was scheduled for today....but it's raining. Ah, a rainy
day: the outdoor-labourer's vacation.

Flashback

I was driving home the other day, listening to the "Police Live"
CD. The song "Synchronicity II" played.

All of a sudden, it dawned on me: I had played this song in a
band. I had even been the one forced to sing it. I had completely
forgotten about this....it was in what I like to refer to as
"The God-Forsaken 80s".

Then the memory started coming back. Other songs we covered in
that band: "Message in a Bottle", also by the Police, "Mirror in the
Bathroom" by the English Beat..."Badge", by Cream....."We Used To
Know", by Jethro Tull....

Where had this information been hiding in my brain? Frightening.

I wondered if there is any audio evidence of this band.
After a couple of e-mails (remember, any person is only a few people
away from you!), I was able to track down the drummer from that
band - who now lives in South Carolina, apparently. He claims to
have recordings of some of the performances. Yikes!!!

It could be very bad. Or, there could be some gems.
As I've aged, I find very old recordings of mine to be amusing
rather than embarrassing. Hey, everybody has to start somewhere.
Sometimes I'll hear my younger self playing some really cool bass part
and I have to work to figure it out how the hell I did it.

But if anybody has audio of the Elvis showband I played in right
after I graduated from high school, I may have to make them
"an offer they can't refuse".

Ibuprofen and Tiger Balm

A few days ago, while trying to control the lawn mower on my
front yard's greater-than-60-degree slope, I pulled a muscle
in my shoulder/neck area. The only thing that's keeping me
going is large doses of the title diet.

Now, for something completely different.....

My friend Susan has apparently been keeping an online blog
without telling me. Hmph. The nerve. Anyway, she's an
actual writer, unlike me. There is a link to her blog on her
web site. Go take a look. Hey, buy her book while you're
at it....if you like it, I'll hound her to finally finish the next one.
Heh....

Well, It Was Worth A Shot

Some people will go to extremes when a flood is coming. My
question is....was this worse than water damage???

Maybe they're planning on moving the house elsewhere, I
don't know....

Baby Whale Flips Me Off

Just another sign of good ol' northeastern hospitality!!!

Baby whale on Stellwagen Bank, 13/6/06.

Customer Service Goes To Pot

Why is it that even though you can't find a store employee
ANYWHERE when you have a question, if you park your
(partially-filled) shopping cart near the restrooms and go
inside....the cart is immediately marked as "abandoned"
and suddenly there is an employee who is willing to
take the cart all around the store to put all your stuff
back on the shelves???

And while we're on the subject of store bathrooms....
what's with the 1-ply toilet paper? Do the brilliant
minds who count beans for the store not understand
that if they put DECENT toilet paper in the stalls,
people would actually need less of it to get clean?
I mean, instead of the whole damned roll, like
you sometimes need with the cheap stuff.

As my mother would have said...."I'm just sayin'."

Alright, enough of that. Be sure to wash your hands
before you return to surfing.

Master of Letters

I returned home from band rehearsal the other night and
found this note from Master L, who had been at his baseball
practice:

"Dear Dad,

Today my team got trophies.

P.S. Coach Todd said I was the most-improved
from last year.

P.S.S. I love you.

P.S.S.S. I like chicken."

The Naked Truth

Mrs. L had a shot at a job in Seattle, but after the little song and
dance, it didn't happen. We had already started looking at
real estate out there....figuring out HOW we were going to
get our stuff from one coast to the other....and then the bubble
burst. The company suggested she contact one of their
offices on THIS side of the country that also needs someone.

We thought, no, if we're moving, we're MOVING. Not
50 miles. 3500...well, yeah, sure, why not...that's more
reasonable.

So, anyway....we're staying. But under protest.

I suppose it's all for a reason. After all, my band is allegedly
booked to play at a nudist colony this summer. Wouldn't want to miss
out on THAT, would I?? My brother-in-law said, "Well, at least
you'll know if they like you."