Location, Location, Location

I love it when a venue hounds you for promo posters/pics
and then you show up and they either haven't put them
up . . . or worse . . .

Here's one of our promo posters, hung just above the toilet
paper in the mens' room. Sorry about the quality - used my
phone to capture it:




"Location, location, location!" -- at least it IS highly visible. I
hope there was a matching one in the ladies' room!

Improv and Stupidity

Last night I took Master L to see a music
"event".

We went to a tiny gallery space to hear
the Akashic Ensemble. The group is
Don Preston (originally of the Mothers of
Invention, all those years ago) on piano
and Moog synth, Andre' Cholmondeley
on guitar/guitar synth/loops and Cheri
Jiosne on electronic percussion.

There were a lot of requests for Zappa
pieces because Don was in The Mothers
of Invention from about 1967-72 or so.
He honoured most of those BEFORE the
actual concert got underway . .

Master L was groovin' on the improv. He
chatted with Don after the show and Don
(who just turned 75 this week) seemed
genuinely happy that what he was doing
could "reach" a kid Master L's age. He
thanked me for bringing him to the show.
Another generation touched.

Here, Master L is discussing with Don the
finer points of differences in replacement
capacitors for the old synths, the varying
quality of manufacturers today vs. the 60s,
and voltage requirements for various sound
applications :



OK - I made that last part up.

Let's move on to the stupidity part of this post. . .

Last week the bottom part of my garage door broke
apart . . in the 'up' position. To get it closed, I had
to cut the wires and have Mrs. L push the door forward
while I pulled it down. Sure, there would only be a
fraction of a second to get my fingers out of the
space, but I could do it . . . no problem . . .

Uh, huh.

As soon as the door cleared the frame, it came
down faster than I could have believed possible.
After all, it ONLY weighs 300 pounds.
I got my fingers out, but not before getting a
serious pinch on the first, middle and ring
fingers of my right hand. I guess that's a GOOD
thing . . . if I didn't get them out faster, I would
have cut the tips off.

What an idiot! WHY didn't I just use a pry bar
to pull? STUPID!!!!!

I was able to play a gig last Friday with the
assistance of a lot of ibuprofen, but the middle
finger is still hurting today. Almost makes me
think there is a hairline fracture or something.
I can rest it until at least Monday's rehearsal
and see what happens. Gig on Tuesday either
way . . .

Buy stock in ibuprofen this week.

Lower Tolerance

Sigh . . .

I usually steer away from REALLY complaining about what
"they" are doing [my mother was always telling me "that's
what THEY say" . . . except she always assumed whatever
THEY said was true. I'm talking about the other THEY].

So -- sorry, but here goes.

In this morning's Boston Globe, I read the following:

"Americans are outraged by the situation in Burma," Bush
said at the UN General Assembly. "The ruling junta remains
unyielding, yet the people's desire for freedom is unmistakable."

This is something he's especially good at doing: changing the topic
in mid-stream to hide his own agenda. The first sentence refers
to "Burma" [he means Myanmar, right?] ....the second refers to
the US, I'm sure.

This is just like the time right after 9/11 (wouldn't it be funny
if someone named their kid Ninah Levin??), when he talked
about the "lack of communication" and "inability to connect
the dots", referring to the FBI and CIA not sharing information
with each other. In the next breath, he was calling for "another
hundred thousand for FBI".....BUT....the "fbi" he was referring to
at THAT point was, "faith-based initiatives". Take a look at
this : http://www.whitehouse.gov/government/fbci/

Is that even legal??

I thought there was a constitutional separation of church and
state??? Oh, wait, "Constitution" . . . that document is
"just a piece of paper", after all. Or so said the "president".
And "president" is just a word, you know.

I caught some local right-wing talk radio the other day
(the radio comes on when I eject a CD in my car, and
have the station set on the traffic/weather station --
which becomes a talk station at night). The host
was playing clips of that day's Obama speech,
with the chorus of "The Boxer" playing under it.
"Lie lie lie . . . lie lie lie lie, lie lie lie . . ."
Pathetic. Well, I'm no Obama fan. In fact,
I'm pretty much a fan of NONE of them, on either
side of the aisle. BUT . . . "lie lie lie" ??? Why
not play it under EVERY speech from EVERY
candidate, as well as EVERY press conference
just about anywhere? I mean, come on!! If
you have to go THAT cheap at this point,
clearly your side is just as bad or worse!

What's driving my sudden need to spout off, I wonder?
Maybe it's just that I'm getting old. That's right, I'm
not going to soften it with "older". I still remember the
days when I didn't have to grunt every time I stood up.
I can remember when I could exert myself until I knew
I was getting tired, instead of finishing something and
getting a massive rush of exhaustion all at once.
I can remember when . . . well, this one requires
some background . . .

I was at my brother-in-law's house once and
my nephews' girlfriends were there. One of them
bent over to do something and exposed way too much
of herself. My brother-in-law made some comment
like "nice view". The two girls (in their early 20s)
looked at him and me, looked at each other, and
said, as one, "EWWWWW!"

I'm sure they would have just laughed if someone
their own age had said it. Well, maybe not. You
never know. But. . .

"The shine is off the apple", as my old co-worker
Joe used to say. Face it. OLD!

So -- the point is, the older I get, the lower my
tolerance for BS. And I've really had it with
being told "we're doing this" when it's actually
"doing that". But who cares what *I* think?
I'm just too selfish. I should look at the big
picture.

But I'll need to get my glasses first. I'm old,
you know.

Think happy thoughts . . . "A smile is just a frown
turned upside down. So, if you see someone
frowning, rip their head off and flip it over."

"I Didn't Kiss A Girl....Really!!"

We went to see Jill Sobule play the other night.
I sang some backup vocals on one song . . . and
screwed up one of the words . . . way to go . . . and
it was recorded, so when I get a copy I'll get to
hear my gaffe over and over, in perpetuity. Heh. Sorry, Jill!

After the show, Mrs. L took this picture:




We picked up Master L at my brother's place, and when we got
home I started downloading pictures from the camera.
When this shot came up on the screen, Master L said:
"Daaaaaad . . . WHO is THAT WOMAN ? ? ?"

Apparently he is well-trained! HA!

When I told him "Mom took the picture", he said,
"Oh. OK." Off the hook . . .

Meow

Looks like we'll be getting a kitten soon. Master L has
been pushing for a new pet for awhile now . . . at first
he was asking about rodents (gerbils, hamsters) but
we settled on a cat. We think he wanted a cat anyway
but was afraid to ask because they are "bigger" and
must, therefore, be a bigger parental hurdle.

My only experience with gerbils is the Lunachicks'
song "The Day Squid's Gerbil Died", but I just
have a feeling the cat will ultimately be "less"
work.

Mrs. L is a dog-person. She gave in on this one.

I haven't had a cat since we got married. The
landlord wouldn't allow pets -- but after we
moved out and his son took over our apartment,
a very large black dog moved in, because . . . the
wood floors were impervious to "family dog"
claw marks . . ? Go figure. That's OK . . I wanted to
give up my cat to live in your dump, A S S H O L E ! ! !

Feh. Anyway . . . I'm not bitter. Wonder if that guy
has died an horrific death from some kind of cancer
yet?

I hope I remember all the cat-training wisdom I
acquired over the years. Like riding a bicycle, right?
Speaking of which -- this will have to be an "indoor"
cat, because our street is way too busy for most
animals to be near the road. There IS one cat that
prowls the neighbourhood, but how it has survived
the street-crossings all this time is beyond me.
Around here, people speed up if an animal is in the
road. After all, it might turn out to be dinner.
D'oh!

No, seriously. There is a state waiting list for moose
and deer roadkill. Anything smaller than that is at
your own discretion, I guess. Less paperwork. Get
big government off our backs!!! :)

Need batteries. Need coffee. What does that have to
do with anything? Who cares . . .

Projects 'n' Whatever

During the summer, someone visiting the house
commented that I have so many CDs I could never
listen to all of them. The nerve. Gauntlet
thrown, I decided on a plan. I'd start at the beginning
of the racks, and each time I would be going out to
drive I'd take the next one or two (or ten, depending
on the length of the trip). Ha! I'll show 'em.

About a month in now, and I'm only up to "Any Trouble".
Sure, there were intervening vacations, but this little
project may take a little longer than I expected.
If I'm lucky, I'll get to the "B"s sometime next week.
But I won't be deterred. Challenge me, eh??

I've already heard some discs I'd completely forgotten
about . . . so that's the upside (Tuck Andress, "Reckless
Precision"). The downside will be suffering through
some discs I should never have bought or should have
sold off (Paul Anka, "Rock Swings"?!?) . . . but a
commitment is a commitment, damn it! I'd say I've
bitten off more than I can chew, but, ears don't bite
or chew. At least not yet. Let's see what deregulation
of the food industry does to the gene pool.

The "Nowhere Else to Write It" file:
Overheard at my son's summer camp last month, while
standing between two different activity areas:

"Who can point out the butt?" . . . and then, from the
other area, "OK, guys, grab your balls!"

Thought to self: "Um . . . which camp IS this, again?!?"


And now for an installment of, "Hmm, This Is Getting
Suspicious":

Last year, right after the spring thaw, I discovered some
termites coming into the basement. Not actual "white
ant" termites (yet), but the scouting party that comes
in before and throws a wild orgy before letting everyone
else know it's cool to come inside.

So - called the termite people (or should I say, "anti-
termite people"). A guy came out and said there were
no termites and no damage inside - I must have caught
the first wave of the scouting party. We had the house
foundation treated. Enough chemicals were pumped into
the ground to kill everything for years. Except for
one thing: the company that does the treatments needs
to stay in business. They called me yesterday and
gave me a real hard-sell about getting more treatments
done this year. When I told them I wasn't interested,
they kept presenting scenarios, each one more
frightening than the last, about re-infestation.
They started throwing out dollar values on damage
(how would they know that number??). "If you don't
renew, we are not responsible!". Hey - now it sounds
like if we don't pay them, they are going to swing by
and drop off a colony outside the house. What the hell?
Is this a shakedown??? I will spray the foundation
myself and keep vigilant. The first suspicious van
I see outside my house is GOIN' DOWN !

Speaking of going down, someone who reads this
blog recently told me I'd been flagged by her
"family filter". Little ol' ME?? What did I do?
The thing is too sensitive!

Speaking of sensitive, I had to learn a bunch of
old Little Feat songs for a gig. I detect subtle
innuendo in their lyrics. But, maybe I have
an "unFamily" mind . . . or I'm too sensitive.
Yeah, that's it.

Hey, if ears can chew - I can be sensitive!

A Hair-Razing Day for Charity

A little over two years ago,
Master L decided he wanted
to grow his hair out to donate for
wigs for kids who lose their hair
due to medical treatments.

[Before!]




His only haircuts since then had
been "trims" to keep the hair out
of his eyes. He ignored the teasing
from some of his peers with an attitude
that made ol' Mr. L proud.
This week, we measured and his
hair was finally over the minimum
donation length.

[After!]
He had it cut and will be sending it
to www.locksoflove.org .

Well done, Master L! We love you!!

Eaten By Whales (A work of fiction)

The Ls are enjoying a day at sea . . .


When, suddenly . . .

"Dad! We've got company! Is this when we're supposed to
throw those bales of 'hay' into the water, like you said??
But where?"

Suddenly, a voice from above said . . .

"Deposit them here, My children, and they will be safe."

But alas . . .


. . . eaten by whales.


D'OH ! ! Duped again.

Family Vacation

The L Family goes to Mexico (pictorial) . . .

Master L, clearly distraught during his first-ever plane trip:


The family stays incognito via high-tech 'camera strap security' :


Once Master L discovered the jacuzzi, it was almost impossible
to get him out. Milk and cookies optional . . .


Remember Monty Python's "Dead Parrot" sketch?!?


Alright, alright, it wasn't really dead, just well-trained.
It was at Xcaret:


Um . . . it's . . . an iguana, admiring some phallic symbols:


Master L standing inches from the edge of a cliff, giving Mrs. L
a good cardio workout!

Now a veteran flyer, Master L looks bored on the final flight
home - or just sick of having his picture taken:


Here's the "art" shot of the same flight:




Enough already with the pictures. Where are the stories??
Eh. . . maybe tomorrow.