But they all are rainy, aren't they?
In the 16th year of my third farewell tour. Energy is ebbing and depression is fighting to take hold. Doesn't matter much.
Back at the Buzz this Friday and the Friendly Tap this Saturday night.
Not too long ago, I was sitting at a show and a lyric or a movement reminded me of Jack Kerouac. I got the urge to run full speed in the dark night. I didn't have a destination in mind or an appointment to show up for. I just wanted to catch up with the laughter, the joy of the night, the living.
My knees would hurt and my lungs would rebel and I would regret losing the opportunity to examine the denizens of the darkness.
Always finding refuge in my stacks of sound and books. Old friends that are always waiting.
I watched a VHS of West Side Story this week. The "cool" song kept running through my short circuited mind. Maybe because old FB friend David Winters who played "A-rab" in the movie and "Baby John" on Broadway was in the hospital and struggling again. He made it through again.
Brought back memories of our own "rumbles" under the el tracks on Grace Street. Singing Officer Krupke at the cops and fighting with car antennas, until Roger tried to make a zip gun and lost an eye and psychotic Bobby stole his old man's pistol. And I recognized a new level to the violence and didn't want to die.
Played the Elbo Room on Sunday. After my set discovered that they had a bottle of Rebel Yell Rye on the shelf. Too good.
Forgot to eat that day, so I was a little hungover. Went to the diner for a Monday breakfast and Antoinette Giancana was at the table next to me. Caught the drift of the conversation. I guess they have "The Bronx Tale" playing downtown. Never know who you run into in Schiller Park.
Listening to the Counting Crows August album. Pretty classic stuff. It was too pervasive for a while, but it is a pretty nice album
Delaney and Bonnie On Tour is playing now. Heard Clapton was having problems with his hands. Me too. Took CoQ10 and it worked for a while, but now I have a little problem holding on to the pick again. Maybe it's the rain.
Going to the Blossom for some corned beef and cabbage this Sunday. St. Patrick's Day. There last year with Gail, probably the last time we were out together. She had a problem eating even then.
Going to play her Bing Crosby and Great Big Sea and Black 47. Squeeze in some Pogues for me. Got a bottle of Jamo and shamrocks up.
But today, I'm keeping the no-meat rules in Mrs. Felten's catechism. Don't backslide even if you think no one's watching.
The sun will be out tomorrow. Hope to see you.
In the 16th year of my third farewell tour. Energy is ebbing and depression is fighting to take hold. Doesn't matter much.
Back at the Buzz this Friday and the Friendly Tap this Saturday night.
Not too long ago, I was sitting at a show and a lyric or a movement reminded me of Jack Kerouac. I got the urge to run full speed in the dark night. I didn't have a destination in mind or an appointment to show up for. I just wanted to catch up with the laughter, the joy of the night, the living.
My knees would hurt and my lungs would rebel and I would regret losing the opportunity to examine the denizens of the darkness.
Always finding refuge in my stacks of sound and books. Old friends that are always waiting.
I watched a VHS of West Side Story this week. The "cool" song kept running through my short circuited mind. Maybe because old FB friend David Winters who played "A-rab" in the movie and "Baby John" on Broadway was in the hospital and struggling again. He made it through again.
Brought back memories of our own "rumbles" under the el tracks on Grace Street. Singing Officer Krupke at the cops and fighting with car antennas, until Roger tried to make a zip gun and lost an eye and psychotic Bobby stole his old man's pistol. And I recognized a new level to the violence and didn't want to die.
Played the Elbo Room on Sunday. After my set discovered that they had a bottle of Rebel Yell Rye on the shelf. Too good.
Forgot to eat that day, so I was a little hungover. Went to the diner for a Monday breakfast and Antoinette Giancana was at the table next to me. Caught the drift of the conversation. I guess they have "The Bronx Tale" playing downtown. Never know who you run into in Schiller Park.
Listening to the Counting Crows August album. Pretty classic stuff. It was too pervasive for a while, but it is a pretty nice album
Delaney and Bonnie On Tour is playing now. Heard Clapton was having problems with his hands. Me too. Took CoQ10 and it worked for a while, but now I have a little problem holding on to the pick again. Maybe it's the rain.
Going to the Blossom for some corned beef and cabbage this Sunday. St. Patrick's Day. There last year with Gail, probably the last time we were out together. She had a problem eating even then.
Going to play her Bing Crosby and Great Big Sea and Black 47. Squeeze in some Pogues for me. Got a bottle of Jamo and shamrocks up.
But today, I'm keeping the no-meat rules in Mrs. Felten's catechism. Don't backslide even if you think no one's watching.
The sun will be out tomorrow. Hope to see you.
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