Categories
Daily Journal

Our Life’s in Jeopardy, Baby, oOOo

Situation Normal All Fouled [sic] Up

Wednesday night.  Typically not considered Party Night, but when you’re a band on a mission, every night is party night.  Tina was menstrual, which usually isn’t a problem, but this was another day.  Another day brings another thing.  We never know what another thing is until it comes.  Another thing is open to interpretation.  Another thing can mean anything in the universe.  It’s rather broad, on purpose.

The agency sent us out on this gig and as usual, we had no idea what we were getting into.  Judy at Jam (the agency) gave us an address and a contact, Jim.  In the 80’s, you had to use instinct and judgment to ascertain an idea about things that were about to be thrust into your life.  You didn’t have Google.

We arrived early, unusually early, because it was a strange club and we wanted to have plenty of time to set up.  Besides, we didn’t have anything else going on.

We’d played shithole dives before, and this was no exception.  It had the same smell, state of disrepair and half-assed attempt at legitimacy as any club we’d played.  Interestingly enough, we didn’t analyze it beyond that.  I wish we had.

Jim wasn’t there yet, but we set up anyway, sound checked and then waited for the throng of appreciative patrons to fill the rafters and cheer us on in triumphant regalia.

Let’s understand something.  We were an 80’s Top-40 band.  We played Madonna, Prince, Cyndi Lauper, Culture Club and Thompson Twins.  Each of these groups are annoyingly pop and dated, but at the time they were the shit.

What We Didn’t Know

The club, The Silohuette, was a biker bar.  A stone cold biker bar.  A STONED, serious-as-a-heart-attack, ex-con infested,  drug-dealing in the back room biker bar.  The patrons were armed.  They had to be.

The Animals Sat and Stared

Hairy monstrous masses of men sat in bar stools deciding whether to stay or hurl half-empty glasses of domestic swill at the Annoyance emanating from the familiar corner where music once lived.

Music is interpretive.  So many factors in one’s environment determine whether or not one will enjoy a piece of music.  One thing was clear on our first set that night, no one was enjoying it.

Aghast and disheartened, we stepped out on to the front landing and took in the 100+ Harleys parked in impervious union.  It was our first clue that maybe the 80’s pop wasn’t going to carry us through the night, let alone the weekend.  Jim, our contact, gave us the death-stare as we passed by him collecting cover charges from tattoed and large prison muscle dudes entering into the blissful atmosphere we were paid to provide.

We couldn’t change our 80’s costumes, but we could change our tune.   So we did.

To Be Continued…

Categories
Daily Journal

Rabbit Finally at Rest – Goodbye John Updike

Author John Updike passes away of lung cancer at age 76

The literary world may be at odds regarding the writing talent of  John Updike, but who cares?  Reading his books are fun.  Run, Rabbit Run was the first Updike Novel I read.  Finished it in two sittings, which was pretty good for an active, bordering on A.D.D. 18 year-old.

Fluid style,  vibrant and exciting imagery, passionate and tender.  That’s what I remember.  After finishing one book in the series I couldn’t wait to continue on with the next, which is exactly what I did, with fervor.

His prose dances elegantly and eloquently across the pages and I was inspired after each read to emulate or capture that essense in my own writing.

I could close by saying “We’ll Miss You”, but fortunately for us, your thoughts, ideas, humor and insight lives on through the rich body of work you left behind.

Thanks John,

John Updike - Rabbit finally at rest
John Updike - Rabbit finally at rest
Categories
Daily Journal

John, George, Dick and Sarah

(Weds. September 24th, 2008)

Telephone rings, an elderly gentleman in a nice suit picks up the phone.

John:

Hello?

George:

Hey John, what the hell’s going on down there?

John:

Things are going really well George.

George:

What the hell are you doing stopping the campaign, are you loco?

John:

Well, Sarah thought people’d think I really care about this wall street thingy if I suspended the campaign, you know, align my priorities …

George:

John, you’re not making any sense, did you clear this through Dick?

John:

You mean Rick?

George:

NO! Dick you idiot, everything goes through Dick!

John:

Well, no, ah..

George:

Oh my god, he’s gonna be pissed…

Look, I’m gonna have to call you back, I gotta call Dick and see what he wants to do.

(10 minutes later)

George:

Hello John,..

John:

Yes

George:

Look, if we’re lucky we can still turn this thing around, Dick said you still have mileage on that “Maverick” spin, so I’m going to invite you and the “boy” down to sort things out, you follow me…

John:

Ah..

George:

…then you’re going to walk in there with this plan that’ll kick the s**t out of the Dems plan and come off looking like, you know, a hero.

John:

But, I don’t have a plan.

George:

Dick will have one ready by the time you land in DC, bring your reading glasses this time.

John:

Okay, what about the debate?

George:

What about the debate?

John:

I don’t want to go.

George:

We’ll talk about that when you get here..

(the above conversation is fictional, any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental)