My list of really fun Halloween songs continues to grow, and a new favorite is Bobby Bare, Jr.'s "Rock'n'Roll Halloween," released last year.
In the song, Bare talks about a Halloween party in Atlanta, where he's struck by the costumes: an overweight Madonna, and things he's never seen before, like "a big pregnant guy sitting on me." Can't say I've ever seen that.
If you celebrate Halloween, be safe, have fun tonight, and let it rip.
Before I mention our ravaged local economy, there is some promising news on my job front: Two of my supervisors at one of my volunteer jobs say I have a good chance to get a paid position that has an opening. Not great pay or many hours (perhaps 20 per week), but I would be eligible for benefits.
On the way back from an errand, I passed a young woman waiting for the bus. She is partially deaf and used to bag groceries at a small chain store that went belly up about a year ago. I hope she's okay.
For years, we had this little restaurant and bar on a corner not far from my house, and the lighted sign read, "Burger Basket $4." For maybe five years, that message never changed--at least until the place started having Karaoke Night--so my family and I always joked about it. But earlier this year, it went under and the place was torn down, leaving only the little coffee hut on the same property. (No one ever tears down a coffee drive-thru place in the Pacific Northwest.)
Now there's a new building up, and the first construction worker I talked to couldn't tell me what kind of place it will be, although when I started chatting with a second construction worker (who had no info, either), I could visualize this structure as a 7-Eleven. I have those kind of nightmares, you know. A third worker on the site did know what was being constructed there. "It's a 7-Eleven," he informed me. "A 7-Eleven," I answered. "Great."
Although there aren't tons of people reading this blog, I'm fortunate enough to say that my longest running friends of thirty years and more take a look once in awhile, and who matters more than pals who have stuck by you for decades?
My fabulous friend Charles Parnell spotted this bumper sticker in his home state of Texas: "I believe in the separation of church and hate."
Here's a favorite from the Occupy Wall Street protests: "I'll believe that corporations are people when Texas executes one."
It's tempting to label this past week blase at best, but I know better. There are a few blessings to count.
First, I finally figured out how to change a car headlight--the fried one lasted about seven months, which strikes me as an unusually short amount of time. Until this week,
I "can't get my hand in there" and end up taking the new headlight to a garage, where I act frustrated in hopes that the mechanic will install the thing and not charge me. I hate that entire process. This time out, I got some scratches on my hands but did manage to install that worthless ten dollar light myself.
More blessings: The Tigers knocked the Yankees out of the playoffs, which was a thrill.
At my one paying gig (commercial radio) today, I found a nicely wrapped burrito in the fridge. No name on it, so as they say at the station, it's "fair game." Yum.
Yesterday's KAOS show was really fun. Playing the music of the late Bert Jansch, with and without Pentangle, was a beautiful thing, and my annual John Lennon special was even better. Got to air a number of fun interview clips plus a searing "You Can't Do That" from the Beatles Anthology video, live in Melbourne, 1964.
I used a Fab Four interview from Swedish TV, where Lennon refers to his mates as
"George Parasol, Ringo Stone--and Paul McCharmley," with just a hint of sarcasm on the final name. These were the supposed happy days of the band.
Fast forward to 2011: Paul marries Nancy today. On John's birthday.
"If the funk gets too hot for your rump/turn the other cheek"
--Bootsy Collins, "The Jazz Greats," 2011