Sitting here waiting for the Boss to call and tell us how the demo is going, Southern breeze blowing windy and warm outside, I remember the night Jethro Tull came to play and the lords of our local civic center pulled the power plug on them promptly at 11PM in the middle of a flute solo.
I ran into Jeffery Hammond-Hammond in the parking lot walking back to the hotel. Boy was HE pissed.
"They pulled the f**** plug on us. How can you live in the sh**hole of a town??"
"ummm.... I understand. It's home."
"But what a rotten pissy thing to do!!!"
"Yeah I agree. Want to get high?"
"THOSE BARSTARDS!!!! ummm.... what... oh yeh"
Watching this election accompanied by the economic tsunami pouring over our shores as predicted, being personally pummeled on other blogs because I defend McCain and Palin and refuse to toss in with The One, I am somehow upbeat. I don't know if it's the cancer diagnosis that left me feeling every day above ground is a good one, or just my own curmudgeonly obstinacy, or that sense that neither of the parties has much moral high ground to retreat to and the mainstream media is going down in the suckage, but I just don't feel the terror and panic I see in the faces on the boob tube.
They tripped over the economy and now their acts are just short wonks whacking away at strings without amplification and all I hear is the shrill flute noises of their anger and rage at being left on stage in the dark with an audience filing out to continue their parties elsewhere.
Life's a long song.