Between gigs and e-working, e-reading, and e-such.
Made portraits of a biking policewoman and chose a setting that was full of Nature. Sadly, however, Yours Truly forgot her SPF5000 and now my face feels that tinge of radiation.
Took Niece and Nephew to Thursday at the Square, that free downtown Middling City throwdown, as they had selected that date to see quote-unquote one-man jam band Keller Williams who did not impress. Sure, he can play lots of equipment and loop his riffs and bang a bit on a drumpad but his lyrics were insipid and his playing's novelty wore off halfway through song three. It was far more amusing to watch Keller's devotees, throngs of happy Esmereldas and attendant boys, some with the usual hippie accessories like patchwork pants, devil sticks, one-hitters, toe rings and oso much more.
Went to dinner and show with N & N as well as Annie and her niece.
Stayed for about 45 minutes of Keller's jammie goodness and headed down to Allentown for some frozen treats, and more live music (and much better) at Steel Crazy.
Dropped the children with their usual handler and met Jana out for some liquid refreshment, the usual spot with the chatty bartender, who generously insisted that we try some of his, he said, secret stash of chocolate grappa.
He insisted that his nonni sends it over from the Old Country.
It was, as grappa is, deceptive in its potent, portentous potability.
Had talked to Sparky, who was meeting up with a band at one of the MC's international bridges to stardom. I was possibly going to accompany to said bridge until the time changed to the hinterlands of lateness. I did say, however, that she should call to tell me she was okey-dokes and en route to her home.
Awoke to Sparky's voice at 3 a.m. telling me all was swell and all about the band, Birthday Massacre who we may see and hear up North some time soon.

More driving, more shooting, more editing starting now.

Now, Love.

Yesterday had the aura of John all around.
Seemingly pretending that I live in L.A. had a tripartite drive-thru experience with first stop being the caffeine stop (second post office, third bank, no bad food involved on this pass-through jaunt) where a Starbucks man who had dipped into the beans welcomed me to The Magic Window.
As I pulled up to the window he asked if Yours Truly would like a walrus. I said Sure. He said the price and then I did like so not want a walrus and then we began a brief discussion of walruses.
How one could keep a walrus in the Middling City. I asked if he'd keep his walrus inside or out. In a kiddie pool, he stated. I suggested a large flap on a door so the walrus could come in and out as he/she chose. He said A sunroom would be good for a walrus, I rebutted a mudroom would be better.
As I began to pull away from the window he leaned forward, stuffed plush walrus in hand, shaking him side to side singing
Koo koo koo choo.
YT just did some online lyrical research and, according to a site it is, in actuality
Goo goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob.
Several hours later, at the muy excellent Black Rebel Motorcycle Club gig at The Tralf downtown, stood stageside with Sparky dancing our respective rock & roll dances. There, amongst the ring of stageside watchers were three Asian women with cameras (as were about a dozen other ringers), one of which was a May Pang doppelganger.
NB: as you enter May's site there's a cue to Listen to this site. Do not. Unless you are in the mood for elevator muzak, pendulum swing far far away from all that is Apple and yes, We could mean an encompassing Apple as in Beatles, as in iUniverse.
YT wonders about what a band is thinking as they observe the people closest to the stage. Besides YT, Sparky, May and her peers, ringside standers included a guy with a mullet, a heavy woman with arms crossed, a thin woman who could not take her eyes off the Asian femmes, and who YT came to call Tambourine Boy.
Tambourine Boy stood at the feet of Robert Levon Been, waiting for a turn at the tambourine tossed down next to an amp. He gestured madly for a chance to tinkle away when - suddenly - Been picked up the tambourine with the toe of his black boot (much like we tennis stars can do with balls and such, like hockey stars can do with fallen teeth, pucks and the like) and launched it right at Tambourine Boy who played it with impressive precision, arms over head. And, as we are all really animals with instinctual charms, One could read that Tambourine Boy hoped he'd be given a rock & roll arm up onto the stage. Which did not happen.
A precise, long, rock star-studded (off and on stage) event.
For some levity YT yelled Love on the Rocks when the band asked what We should like to hear.
Neil would have laughed.

Laughing with, for, and at Love.