Thursday, June 21, 2001

Just a little joke

The post below will be funny to about 4 people on the planet. I'm poking a little fun at my friend Jason who, when Jay Moriarity died last week, wrote an overly dramatic post. Take a read so you too can get the joke. And Jason, I'm just having a little fun brother.
He will be missed..... Can I have his watch?

I woke up this morning to some really bad news. John Lee Hooker had died. My heart sunk. I made a quick make shift memorial by sticking a pick in my potted plant at work and stared at it all day wondering, how he could already be gone, and would anyone tell me to stop staring at my plant and get to work? Even though I’d only barely heard of John before his death, he was one of my heroes. I think it goes without saying that as an 83-year-old black man he was one of my peers and a kindred spirit.

John Lee Hooker was born August 22, 1915. One of 11 children born to a sharecropping family in Coahoma County, near Clarksdale in the very heart of the Mississippi Delta bottomlands that have given us so many superb blues singers. During a more than six-decade-long music career he recorded more than 100 albums. Throughout it all, Hooker's music remained unchanged. His rich and sonorous voice, full of ancient hurt, and his brooding and savage style remained hypnotic but unpredictable. To the strains of his own guitar, he sang of loneliness and confusion. Neither polished nor urbane, his music was raw, primal emotion. He is sometimes compared to Muddy Waters, who considers him to be one of the deepest of blues singers to ever grace the stage.

I never met him in person and now that he’s gone I’ll never get to bump into him backstage at a gig. I’ll never get to exchange a quick conversation about all these damn youngsters and what they’re doing to the blues. I’ll never hear him complement me on my choice of guitar, or after I learn to play it, hear him hoot for me as I bust out a new lick on stage while thousands of fans scream for me. John I know you’re looking down on me right now and all I ask is that you please turn away when I’m going poopy. Rest in peace brother.

Monday, June 18, 2001

BFD? I’ll say!
or
Benny, an international sensation!

Naked 18-year-olds… All good! On Friday I went to BFD which, for those of you who either don’t live in the bay area or are not as cool as I am, is a big concert put on by a local radio station. I went with a group of about 15 girls ranging in age from 16 to 21. Let’s just say they were not shy. It goes with out saying that I had a great time, but in addition to gaining carnal knowledge of some hot freshman, I discovered a few bands that I really like. Fuel and Staind were two bands that I had heard of, but was previously unfamiliar with their music. Both really impressed me and I’ve since bought their CDs, and would suggest you do the same. For me the highlight of the show was a great performance by The Cult though, I guess that’s my age coming through.

I was pretty amazed when I started this site at how many random people happen across it. I’ve gotten quite a few emails from people who have stopped by and liked something I had written. When I post to this site I pretty much write for a few friends and my goal is just to try and make them laugh. Granted I think my informal prose are the greatest works of literature ever written, but it’s a little unnerving that strangers are reading it. I’m a little embarrassed when my friends read this dribble, let alone some stranger that doesn’t know I have a mild form of congenital retardation. The most recent email I got was from a Frenchy named Patrick ( Hello Patrick, sorry about the "Frenchy" thing ). He found my site through Blogger, and had liked my post about getting older and having all your friends get married, thanks Patrick! I’ll keep up the good work, continuing to publicly document why, how and who I’ve offended.

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