Any whiff of thought I might have ever had about shooting for a political office has been dashed after last night's/this AM's bachelorette/stagette happenings. The revelry, the dancing, the shouting, the carousing, the photos taken in that bar's insty-foto booth...

Jazz funeral photos came out today in my newspaper and I wonder if any readers out there are going to scratch heads marveling at my ubiquitous ability to photograph events sandwiching the Friday the 13th event in New Orleans.
Tonight is Bo Diddley followed by civilized dinner and uncivilized bachelorette mayhem and I'm fearing for the safety of unsuspecting men out and about tonight in downtown clubs. Fifteen or so sauced up girlies, fueled on tequila, what perfection.
Everywhere I've been today I gave people this special Nancy assignment: go see Bo Diddley come hell or high waters as he's the inventor of rock & roll and what could be more amazing than that? Plus who knows when he'll be d-e-d?
At the risk of sounding like a bottle of Dr. Bronner's soap...have I ever steered you wrong? Music suggestions 100%! Go now and buy Tricky's Blowback. You'll thank me for this. I bought mine in the way-fab Virgin Superstore in New Orleans, where will you buy your copy?

Currently I'm what in the journalism trade is dubbed filing and am doing just that and I'm passing the fax spewer from which I gather upcoming event info and sitting at the bottom was a message from Ani DiFranco's Righteous Babe Records. Apparently the Lil' Folksinger is pissed as hell because a late night talk show (I watch none of that so I don't even recall which one it was) said You cannot play your depressing song about racism, you know, the one which poops on your home town. And she was like, oh, well, like, look, since I was 18 I've blazed my own trail and NOBODY tells this Lil' Folksinger what to do. So she's not playing the song. She's not playing the show. She'll show them. Nobody tells a Lil' Corporate Anarchist what to do.

So moved was I by the Aerosmith perfection this past Sunday I plunked $40 on the counter for their girlie model t with sparklie logo which is how I left silver glitter everywhere I went yesterday, including the fukt car dealership where I drove my vehicle for the first time in one year and where I camped out for seven hours using their free phone line nearly the entire time as my laptop (plugged into their DC) whizzed away DMB.
Aerosmith's set was not full of overdone props and there was a large hand in front of the stage which had fingernails which glowed at appropriate moments. Unfortunately for us photogs our meager little slice of Aerosmith sky (venue has high stage) was further lessened by ONSTAGE security, cameramen for rearstage monitors, super duper amps, and TELEPROMPTERS. Managed, however, to get a few breathtaking images of Skinny Ass, Mr. Tyler. A second stage was set up for the lawn/nosebleedesque seats and a colleague and I chugged a few beers and slipped amongst the fans for this possible photo op which didn't quite pan out - bad angle, roving security. One guy spotted my colleague and flashed a flashlight in our direction which is a helpful cue for escaping, which we did, further into the mayhem. There a bleary-eyed man dumped a portion of his cold beer down the back of my neck and my first rock & roll thought was that this was a friend or acquaintance greeting me in pure rock & roll fashion. When I said hey you dumped your beer down my neck he said grragrrgle ieeuh myefsyuh.