Turtledoc et al
This entry was posted on Saturday, March 08, 2008 4:27 AM and is filed under Whatever.
|
|
|
Confederates? |
I don't think I could be feeling much worse. Thanks for asking! My sciatic nerve seems hell-bent on overpowering the Oxycodone my new doc has me consuming. The new doc wears a turtleneck straight outta 1994. I let it slide, because turtledoc looked at me intently as I spoke, giving the appearance of listening to what I had to say. It reminded me of the rapt look I gave my Math professors when I wanted them to think I was absorbing their gibberish. A long lost friend of mine (see "Gay is the New Black" comment from the previous post) has the ability to project that same focused gaze.
Last night I accompanied my wife and her bandmates to the Penn Brewery. Pittsburgh has two major brew-pubs, both of which pour scandalously average beer. Pittsburgh, you can do better! A group called The Boilermaker Jazz Band was playing, and they did indeed rock the United States of America. Note the banjo, which gave them a Dixieland edge. I'm not sure how my brother the bass player got mixed up in something so decidedly Confederate, but he managed to bring it all night long.
Several years back I cleansed my house of Confederate musical instruments, namely my mandolin. I had bought the mandolin, an electric guitar, and a Martin acoustic guitar for my son's pre-birthday. With 7 weeks to go in her 1st pregnancy, my wife was told she couldn't leave the hospital until the future Zachary Taflin Neill was born. So I thought I'd pass the time by playing music. It went poorly. The electric guitar served as a constant reminder that I wasn't in a band (very depressing), and the acoustic guitar made me feel like a rich jerk, because only rich jerks can afford a Martin.
The Boilermaker Jazz Band - Until the Real Thing Comes Along.mp3
