A Weekend Post

Saturday

For me to write the best I can, I have to treat writing like exercise. More writing usually brings with it better writing fitness. The longer I go without writing, the more barco-lounger lazy I become. Then when the mood finally reappears, it is often like pulling teeth to get back into any groove at all. So this post is more for the exercise than any particular point I might have had in mind when I sat down. A point may happen, but it will be an accident. 

The one rule I have for this post is "No Politics". ............. Yeah right. That might be an impossible dream.

Speaking of some dreams being impossible. How about that Kamala? ........... I knew I shouldn't have set any rules, especially regarding politics. I decided I might as well break the stupid rule early and be done with it.

Now that that is out of the way, I can get on with the exercise.

Went to an excellent restaurant today with my wife, daughter and her man, Mr. Man. The Village Tavern in West Kennebunk is located in the old Cummings Market which has since moved to a new location 200 yards away into a modern day set up more suited to Suburbia, anywhere else other than West Kennebunk, Maine. But the Cummings folks are happy as pigs in shit. Besides the great operation they had as just a mom and pop store, now they have more than few gas pumps and they sit just a wheel turn off the Kennebunk exit on the Maine Turnpike. They are printing more money than ever now.

We were warned to get in line at the Village Tavern early before they opened at 4:00 PM. We were there by quarter to four and lined up maybe 20 diners back from the front of the line. Because we we were early enough, we scored the much desired seating on the long front porch outside. The day was beautiful and the breeze made it perfect.

I always have fun when I spend time with my wife, my kid and her man. They are hands down my favorite people in my life at the moment. Smart, funny, and a liberal sense of humor. We always have a good laugh at least once every time we hook up. I don't even mind when it is at my expense, which it often is.

The menu was not huge. It was not small. It had something for most everyone, even the kids. The prices were not cheap, but we expected that. I have no problem paying the freight at a good restaurant. And let's just say, the Village Tavern turned out to be better than the hype. Just their sides were awesome, never mind the Entrees. A gastronomical pleasure I have not had in a long time. All of us were more than impressed. The service was excellent and even though there was a line outside, we never felt pressure to get up and leave.

A great feed with great company. Life was as good as it gets at the Village Tavern today.

Sunday

Well, it's closing in on noon this beautiful Sunday. 75' F and only 55% humidity. In other words, I need to get outside and do shit. Too nice a day to spend indoors.

I have a hard cover for my pick up bed. It has been taking serious room in my already over stuffed garage for over 6 months now. It is time I stopped walking around it and install the damn thing. Besides, two days ago, I spent an hour scrubbing down the inside of the bed with installing the hard cover in mind.  In the meantime, please enjoy the two Yip-Yips of Sesame fame. My daughter found time to crochet them for me and my wife. Their story is they are from Mars and they hate computers and generally tech of any kind. They might be onto to something.

Wherever you are this gorgeous Sunday, please enjoy yourself .....................

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As nice as it is today means only one tune will do. Here is "Day dream" by the Lovin Spoonful from back before the dinosaurs in 1966. Enjoy. I advise a loud setting, but you may do as you like, I guess.

A Study in Contrasts

When Trump hit the political bricks in 2015 with his doom and gloom rhetoric about America and the sad shape he falsely claimed our country was in, I was puzzled at first. Then I was angry. Immediately I understood what his game plan was. Spreading hate was easier than spreading hope.

Sure, ever since 9 / 11, America seemed off it's game. We had been horribly attacked so we went to war and the following 15 years were filled with more war news, soldiers dying, soldiers coming home maimed and we once again were sucked into a situation there seemed no escape from. 

Yeah, we were not a happy country. But we were coming round until Trump opened his pie hole. Instead of using rhetoric that was positive and held out hope for our future, Trump seized on the negativity that permeated our collective soul and amplified it through never ending pessimism about America, Americans and where we were headed.

I knew he was wrong for our country then and the following 8 years proved me right. He has never stopped denigrating and hating America. His speeches now are even more hate filled than his doom and gloom sermonizing back in 2015. His "America and Americans Suck" schtick was new and fresh in 2015. Now it's like a sitcom that has been on the air way too long. The only idiots still hanging on his every word are the folks who love to hate and probably have wallowed in hate their whole lives. His covey of political opportunists are beginning to waffle in their full throated support of him. They are acting like nervous rats who think their boat may be sinking soon and are considering exit strategies now.

The image at the top is a screen shot I took of a "Morning Joe" segment while sipping coffee at the kitchen table yesterday morning. It beautifully represents the contrast between the two political parties at this point in time. The Democrats have climbed out of their funk and are back to business as the party of hope for the future, The Republicans are still wallowing like pigs in their hate filled sties created from dreams of a Past that never existed as they now remember that Past through their warped rose colored glasses.

No matter who you may vote for, please vote. Keep in mind that it is possibly a better idea that a vote be used with the Future in mind, not the Past. No matter what, we can never, nor should we want to, return to the Past.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .................................

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Time for music. What to pick, what to pick? My mind is blank and clueless this A.M. ....Hmm......... Guess I need some headphones on and a few minutes chasing songs on the World Wide Web.

In a token effort to at least check the latest hip tunes, I allowed YouTube's "Trending" tune of the day to take up space in my computer. Limiting my musical choices to the music of my past is good and all, but that denies there is no "good" music out there and just comes off as another crotchety, old fart, get off my lawn knee jerk attitude. Over the last 10-15 years, I have discovered wonderful new music across all the genre's out there. Sure, most of it is shit. The same held true back in the day when music was what my generation thinks now was the best ever. Separating the chaff to find the wheat is how it has always been.

So, here is Teddy Swims wearing a suit, a tie and tats from head to, I assume, toe. The man has some serious pipes. Enjoy "I lose Control", a very good newish pop tune.

The Enemy is Us

It bothers me we humans waste so much time, money and focus on the petty, the "never should have been a problem" problems, all the while ignoring or worse, denying the more than likely Humanity Ending calamities heading our way.

Maybe there is nothing we can do about the climatic tragedies, the over grazing, and out of control polluting. But then maybe we can. To not try harder to mitigate the upcoming damage is giving up. Status quo token efforts just won't do. We either go all in with our attempts to save what we have or we are done. It is no longer if, but when. The window to affect any change is closing at a faster rate than ever before. 

What do humans focus on while they exploit the planet to the point when the planet can no longer support our stupidity?  Their focus is on what can they buy that will help them stay erect, what can erase those lines etched in their faces and surely losing one's hair is more of a crisis than watching a desert grow where trees once stood. 

Based on our self-infatuated lifestyles, we know there are more important issues than saving the Race. Besides, we have plenty of time. And BTW, short term goals always upstage long term planning. Living for now is so much more important and easier than living with our children's futures in mind. Leave them lots of money if we can, the only plan. Besides the price we might pay for our efforts now will probably be painful. And we all know pain sucks. And besides, we have plenty of time.

The politics of saving ourselves should not be complicated. The problem is not complicated; the solutions are. Yet, the opposing sides of this issue would rather waste their energies pissing on each other's feet than pulling together to meet the biggest challenge we will ever face. 

One side wants to continue our reliance on old polluting technologies and keep their heads shoved up deep into their respective asses using denials and yo momma, fuck you, we don't care policies. Their opposites wring their hands and while supporting efforts to change, their worries about the inconveniences and disruptions to their pampered lives make them hesitant. And besides, there's plenty of time left.

Pointing fingers at everyone else without calling out my own planet saving efforts or lack thereof would be disingenuous. And while I often get on my high horse and look down my nose at the careless and ignorant people who have no clue or feel no need, no obligation to help us save ourselves, .... I have some cred, but I could and should do more, give more, and put a bigger dent in my personal carbon footprint. There is always room for improvement.

Is there plenty of time left? .......................... We'll see.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ........................................

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The song for the post I found well before I finished writing the post. I was listening to a YouTube Blues compilation. I think the song is a cover of Lightening Hopkins, "One Eyed Woman". It is performed by Gary BB Coleman who used to back up Hopkins near the end of his career. Pour yourself a shot or two of sour mash before you punch it up.

 

Hope I Die Before I Get Old

It would appear I blew it. That horse left my barn sometime ago. But I do remember embracing these lyrics after I saw The WHO perform "My Generation" on the "Smothers Brothers Show" in 1967. Their performance blew me away. I was 15 years old and had a seriously large chip on my 15 year old shoulder. The lyrics became my teen years anthem. I was going to damn well try to live up to the commitment. Old people sucked. Middle aged people (my parents) were worse. They didn't understand me or what Life was like for me at age 15.

I hoped many times I would not make it past 50, so I entered my "don't give a fuck" period and there came times when it appeared I was living up to the challenge.

Somehow I survived the years of living dangerously and became domesticated. Self preservation replaced Self destruction and the next thing I know, I have a wife, a kid, and I am no longer just living for myself. And though my crazy years were excellent overall, I am so grateful I settled down and became a positive cog in the world around me. My life as a husband, a father, and now a burgeoning old fart have been and are the best years of my life. 

As it turns out, hoping to die young was a fucking stupid idea.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .......................................

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Lock Up the Librarians

Texas never seems to have a problem punishing a freedom. Ever since Governor Abbott polluted Texas State Politics with his Christian Nationalist terrorism, a state I actually liked at one time, is now lower on my visit list than even Florida. I have lived in both states and will now never go back to either.

Granby County, Texas constable, Scott London spent two years and filled out an 824 page criminal report while investigating the evil doings at school libraries in Granbury, Texas. Apparently, the officer was ready to bring criminal charges against 3 librarians for having 6 books on the shelves that he deemed as obscene. He also wanted the names of the students who checked them out.

He did say the librarians did not have to speak with him without lawyers, as the investigation was criminal and not administrative. They refused. The investigator filed his report with the local District Attorney. The DA refused to file charges, using a "lack of evidence" excuse. 

Now this may seem like good news. They dodged a bullet and were not taken into custody, handcuffed and processed like some petty criminal. Actually, this kind of "Big Brother" bullshit should scare the bejesus out of all of us. There are so many things wrong here, legally, politically, and most of all ethically. But this is the kind of activity a single person with minimal authority can feel emboldened enough to take part in once they feel they have the backing of the government.

Limiting what we can read is a cornerstone of a totalitarian society. It doesn't matter if that totalitarianism is waving a flag or carrying a cross. There is absolutely no justification for this kind of heavy handed bullshit.

I leave this here with a link to the NBC video. You can judge for yourselves.

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To accompany this post, I chose Incubus', "Talk Shows on Mute". The big reason is besides the political message, is I just like the tune and have for years.

Regarding Organized Religion and LSD

Yesterday morning while I was having a late breakfast, a large Jehovah Witness accompanied by a much smaller Jehovah Witness knocked on my front door. I opened the door. I forget the large Jehovah's name, but the cute little Jehovah in the summer dress was named Maddie. Maggie our dog was right there, as she always is, ready to greet strangers, thieves and other lowlifes with her tail wagging and a smile on her mug. 

Maddie seemed intimidated at first, but she relaxed as I listened to, I am guessing here, her father's latest twist on God. Large Jehovah and I exchanged niceties. He asked me, and I paraphrase:

"What do you think of all the suffering around the World?"

A serious question for sure. Because I was feeling friendly, I searched for an answer that would not come across as mean or dismissive.

"To suffer seems an integral part of the Human Condition."

I wanted to say more, but he just looked at me and handed me the pamphlet. It was not the full blown issue of "The Watchtower" they usually distribute.

"We'd love to see you in church."

We shook hands and he and his mini cohort left.

Anyone who has known me for any time at all knows I hate organized religion, especially organized religions who would force their way into my life through Theocratic rule, like the Taliban, Isis, but most of all, the homegrown Christian Nationalists who are intent on totally fucking up what America has worked so hard to build.

Knowing this, it would not be much of a leap of logic to assume I hate Jehovah Witnesses. I don't hate the Witnesses. Yeah, they knock on my door at least once a summer, sometimes more. They hand me copies of "Watchtower", bend my ear for a few moments and then leave me to return to happily wallow in my heathen squalor.

Jehovah Witnesses are not political. As a matter of church doctrine, politics is not on their agenda. They only recognize "God's Kingdom" and cannot be bothered by the petty, selfish activities that swirl around them as they devote their lives to their god. They rely on face to face persuasion to bring more of us infidels into their flock. Compare that to what the Christian Nationalists will jam down our throats should they have the power. No contest, the Witnesses are hands down, how an organized religion should carry itself. Leave the politics home.

I can co-exist with any religion that does not interfere in my own vison of pursuing happiness.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .....................................

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I have had trouble finding tunes I like about or referencing religion in some way. I decided today I would find something else, maybe a reminder of times past when I was in my LSD phase. I was sure I saw God that night.

I was first introduced to Jimi Hendrix's take on "All along the Watchtower", during Easter Break, 1968. I was in military school in southern Maryland and my family had moved to Maine by then. I spent Easter Break with Snake and his grandparents in Bethesda, Maryland, my old neighborhood. 

Snake and I were new to LSD. We had only a few trips under our belts at the time. We scored a bunch of Orange Barrels. The guy we bought the hits from warned us to be careful. He advised we split one hit and see how it goes.

Being overconfident noobs, we mishandled our dosages; badly mishandled our dosages. We had been swallowing LSD for a few weeks by then and decided we knew what we could handle. We did not respect the potency of the Acid we had bought. We each ate one barrel, waited maybe 20 minutes and convinced ourselves we weren't "getting off" (feeling it), so we each ate another Orange Barrel.

By this time we had retired to Snake's basement, which was his room. He put on "Electric Ladyland". That was the last thing I really remember well until 12 or 13 hours later when we came out of it. "Electric Ladyland" was still playing. I was sure that night, Hendrix had been sent by God. And I was positive LSD was God's gift to the World.

As it turned out, it wasn't God. It was too many mics of LSD.

So here is Jimi's version of Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower". To this day I am sure it is the greatest version that will ever be. I know, I listened to it all night long that night in the summer of 1968.

My Little Patch of Sanity

I don't get around as well as I used to. Ask most 72 year old's and I am fairly certain they would agree. If not, then good for them. I should be so lucky. 

I know that the aches and pains I deal with today could be alleviated some if I exercised more. Well, there's the rub. And it's a rub I have dealt with over the years every Spring getting in good enough shape for a summer of mountain biking. Improving fitness always brings discomfort(pain) and as each year passes, the rebirth process after a winter of slothful endeavors brings more discomfort(pain). The pains seem to invade new body parts with each passing year.

I have to embrace the pain; grin and bear it if I hope to control the worst of the pain in my future. Suffering a little now means less suffering later. Yeah, after so many Springs used up changing from a winter of listless and lethargic navel contemplation to a lifestyle of active physical efforts, I would hope I would be used to the pain involved in that transition by now. But every Spring the intensity of the initial discomfort shocks me for a week or so.

In recent years I guess I decided to not deal with the pain of shaping up. It is so much easier to continue the barco-lounger way of life and slowly waste away into the great beyond. Falling into the trap of inactivity is definitely the path of least resistance and with each new year under my belt, that path gets easier. I have told myself this many times this year so far:

"No fuckin around Mike. This Summer we rock. This Summer we get off the couch, turn off the computer, the TV and get busy".

For the last 6 or 7 years, after a couple of really agonizing weeks, I have given up and turned back into that torpid lizard sitting on a rock in the hot Sun. To be fair, I have had some health challenges that made it easier to sit than not. Tick borne illnesses and Covid did kick my butt and bouncing back has been hard. Regardless, I have begun to be more active. How long this lasts will depend on if the chronic aches and pains I have developed do not get any worse.

I have to thank the influx of mountain bike videos on my Facebook page for my recent efforts to be more active. I used to love riding my bike in the woods. Nothing made me happier. Now, I want to do it again. But I have to be in better shape to even attempt it. So I started walking almost every day with Maggie over in Mary's Woods across the road from my dooryard. 

Those woods have been a special place for me since I was in high school. I fixed up a bench from cut up deadfall and I bet I have consumed 100 joints sitting there while I watched and listened to the woods get on with their day. So, if for some reason I again fall off the fitness wagon, If nothing else, I am calmer these past couple of weeks. Sitting on some old logs in the woods can do that for me.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .....................................

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Since I am in the early optimism about the future for myself and again feeling better about our country's direction with the stand out duo, Harris and Walz, looking to kick some GOP butt in November, I figure a song from Tracy Chapman might be appropriate. Here is "New Beginning", the title track of her 1995 album, "New Beginning".

A Morning Conversation Over Coffee.

I brought up the subject of my mother over coffee this morning. I won't call it a mistake because I did not anticipate where the conversation would end up. I should have expected my wife's response, but when it came, I was caught off guard by her blunt answer. I asked or rather stated as a joke:

"I'm not like my mother am I?"

BA stopped stuffing her lunch bag and looked at me as if weighing how harsh of a reply she should level at me. Just the look she gave indicated I was about to have the Bad Ass Bobbi answer and not the Leave it to Beaver "Yes dear" I might have hoped for. Of course I have never gotten a "Yes Dear" from my bride of 43 years. Not once. That has always been one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place.  She puts up with my stupidity, my delusions of grandeur, but will not hesitate to call me on my Bull Shit when she feels I need a swift kick in the ass. She has never been a subservient woman. I like that.

So, she's looking at me deciding whether to pull punches or let a flurry of them fly. I can see it in her eyes.

"You are just like your mother."

She stopped there and went back to stuffing her lunch bag.

I was not crushed. I was surprised I guess that she said it with such firmness and with a touch of "isn't it obvious" in her tone.

Okay, maybe I should have filled some history gaps before I let this post get to this point. So, I'll do it now.

My wife's and my mother's relationship was strained from the first time they met. My mom was a judgmental woman who was raised as an elite daughter in the social world of San Francisco in the early to mid 1900s. Her father was a judge who for some time, was "the Man" in the local Republican party. In other words, Mom could be a snobbish and often was.

BA, my future wife, was immediately put off by the pretentions my mom exhibited. I never expected them to be pals, but I was surprised at the tension that continued from that day forward. Part of me enjoyed seeing my mom dealing with a woman who wouldn't put up with her bullshit. Another part of me wished they would get along. And then the evil part of me ..... , well, let's just say I did little to meet either's expectations in the way of defense. I figured each was up to the task of their battle and I should stay out of it as much as possible. Overall, one of the smartest decisions of my life.

Back to our conversation ..........

After Bobbi Ann crushed my soul by inferring I was just like my mother,  I stupidly did not leave it alone and asked or is it I stated:

"Well okay, at least I'm not as bad as she was, right?"

"No, You aren't."

She continued packing her lunch. I knew this was not the morning conversation she wanted. She was trying to focus on her day at her office. I couldn't let it go, so I continued to press:

"I'm not as much like her as Joe (my oldest brother, now deceased) was, right?"

BA's body language told me this might be the end of her patience, but she answered:

"No, those two were peas in a pod. Joe could do no wrong. He was her little prince."

Satisfied now that I was not as much like Mom as Joe was, I decided to quit pushing it. Or I thought I did. Instead, as an after thought, I opened my pie hole again and asked: 

"What about Doug?"

Doug was the middle son who had to grow up in Joe's shadow. He ended up not being like either Joe or I. For many years he was the even tempered Dougie who always tried to calm the often contentious family moments from getting out of hand.

BA perked up:

"Yeah what happened to Doug? He turned into a nice guy without the ego you and Joe picked up."

I couldn't leave well enough alone, could I? That pesky ego always gets me in trouble.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .................................

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I typed in "Blues tunes about Mom". Google took me immediately to this fine song, "Blues for Mama" by Nina Simone. Nina has one of the finest voices of my lifetime. She can belt out the Blues fer shur Dude.

Proud to Be a Libtard

I discovered a new singer the other day. While watching YouTube videos, a jazzie number called, "Rich People" caught my attention. Right out of the gate, Carsie's pull no punches lyrics identified her as a kindred spirit. I immediately started to listen to her other offerings on YouTube. She uses politics as major inspirations for her tunes.

Her name is Carsie Blanton. She's from Luray, Virginia and she rocks.

I have gone through a few videos of hers and I would say half of them have strong political messages in them. My favorites so Far are "Ugly Nasty Commie Bitch" and "Rich People".

I was born into a family where both of my parents' ancestors were Republican going back to the party's beginnings. I was weaned on Republican policy and viewpoints. I was also weaned on the expectation that I should always make up my own mind, but be ready to defend myself if challenged. No quarter was given at the often heated political discussions that went down at the dinner table. I was often chewed up and spit out for offering an opinion. But by the time I hit twelve years of age, I could hold my own most days.

Real life events in my early years though nibbled away at that perfect happy existence we supposedly lived in. Alcohol, health issues, then witnessing humans being cruel to other humans in real time when we lived in Tallahassee, Florida set up my future as a Liberal. Watching my parents become disillusioned, not just with their political party, but with the country as a whole by the end of the 1960s pretty much cast my new direction in stone.

They were not surprised with my switch, nor was I vilified when I switched over to the Dark Side and registered as a Democrat when Ronald Reagan ran for President. My mom hated Reagan for what he did as governor to "her California".

I had been leaning Left for quite some time, but I often crossed over to the other Dark Side and voted for a Republican. I did that for years, actually voting for the person, not the party. That all changed in 2008 when Susan Collins reneged on her promise to only serve two terms as a Senator from Maine. Her whole campaign in 1996 was based on term limits. She promised at event after event, she would leave the US Senate after two terms. I don't believe in term limits, but she made a promise and then reneged and ran for a third term in 2008. She is still stinking up the Senate as I write this.

The Tea Party of the Right was in full swing in 2008. The writing was on the wall. I was sure of it. The party I grew up in was never going too be that party again. Defeating them became my one political goal. No matter who is running, never ever would I or will I vote for a Republican again. Since 2008, I have  done just that. 

The GOP has Cancer. The Cancer has metastasized and invaded every pore of the Republican Party. The few sensible Republicans that existed in 2008 have either succumbed to that Cancer or been ostracized and retired or been primaried out. Contrary to their lying rhetoric, the GOP no longer even pretends to represent the citizens of the United Sates. The GOP is now owned completely by rich and powerful private sector assholes. It's all about the Benjamins.

So here I sit at age 72. I have no regrets worth mentioning really. I certainly do not regret becoming a Libtard. I am proud of my conversion to progressive notions and ideas. I don't agree with all of them, but I know Progressives are not as self serving as the Right Wing is. The Left is more likely to put forward policies that help the nation over all and not just the petty selfish interests of mostly rich White people.

Later gators ....................................

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Enough on politics already. Time for some music. With politics included of course.. Here is my new favorite artist, Carsie Blanton with her tune, "Rich People".

An Extrication

This meme passed by this morning on the "Opposing Views" group page on Facebook. 

I wasn't sure about this, so I ran it by my wife. We are now on our way to the ER to have her left foot extricated from my ass.

She apologized. Said the thought made her go off the deep end, So I asked if it was okay after all? She told me to pull over; she needed to add some emphasis to her earlier expression of displeasure.

Oh Shit. She's taking off her right shoe.

Hopefully I will recover soon. In the meantime ............

Keep it 'tween the Ditches .......................................

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I also discovered a new (to me) musician who seems to draw much of her inspiration from the Political world. A woman after my own heart, Here is Carsie Blanton with her tune, "Ugly Nasty Commie Bitch". Enjoy.

Dance On a Volcano

I have been listening to my on board computer playlist this morning; specifically my Genesis collection. I first noticed them when I saw their first album in the back of the record delivery van who made bi-monthly stops at Clark's Tank n Tummy in Sanbornville, New Hampshire in the summer of 1969. I was a pump jockey there for the summer.

The van was out of Boston and the route went through New Hampshire and into Vermont every other week to restock record shops and 8 track racks found almost everywhere at the time. I remember I asked delivery guy if 8-tracks were all he carried. He took me to back of his van and opened the door. In the van were crates and crates of LPs and boxes of 8 tracks. He asked if I was interested in anything. His prices wee $1.50/ vinyl album or $2.00 / 8 track. 

My eyes must have glazed over. I was speechless. "Go ahead", he said, flip through this one and see if you like anything. These are the newer releases." As I flipped through the crate, I did not recognize any of them. But I picked 10 albums. When he asked me why I chose them; "I liked the covers", I said.

Genesis' first album was one, as was "Garbage" by the Deviants, "Workingman's Dead, by the Grateful Dead, "This was", by Jethro Tull and Led Zeppelin's first album. As it turned out, I would buy over 70 albums from him by the end of the summer; most of them picked because of the cover or the recommendation of the delivery guy. He turned me onto Fleetwood Mac, during their blues beginnings and Frank Zappa during his early years.

I would only own those albums for less than a year. In the Spring of 1970, my room at Charlotte Hall Military Academy was broken into the week before I graduated  and my collection of over 100 albums was ripped off. Later that summer I found out who did it. One of my first experiences at how there was no loyalty among junkies. We used to share needles for Chrissakes. 

I got on with my life and did my best to replicate that collection over the following years. I was never able to replace all of them. Genesis' first album was one of them. So, today, I chased down "Genesis to Revelation", their debut album on YouTube. After sampling their music on that first album, I can understand why I never found another copy. I didn't then nor do I now consider it a great album, but closer to a mediocre one. I did buy their second album, "Trespass", but would also lose that one because I left it at Snake's house after I lived in his basement the summer of 1971. Seems Genesis was destined to remain off any playlist I had. 

I really did not appreciate Genesis I guess until I drove a truck on 2 legs of their 1977 North American tour. I was in between tours and SHOWCO, the sound and light company I drove for, needed some equipment hauled up to the tour. I would connect with them in the Mid West and then finish that leg of the tour with them replacing a driver who had pissed off the road manager one too many times for being well, an asshole. He was particularly unhappy about me replacing him for the final so many gigs on the tour. We had history. But then he seemed to create history wherever he went. That was the first time I drove for Genesis. The second time was another part of the same tour that happened later that year in July, 1977.

Of all the bands I hauled, I have to say Genesis impressed me the most; even more than Led Zeppelin or The Who. I never heard them miss a beat or a note. They were perfection. When CD's made their debut some years later, I began to collect their music again.

So, please enjoy "Dance on a Volcano", from their 1976 album, "Trick of the Tail". When they fired up this song, the crowds went ballistic. It always sent chills up my spine..... Still does. This video is a live version from the tour I was on. It includes "Los Endos", the song they they usually ended their shows with. The visuals aren't great but the sound is excellent. (740)

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..........................................

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