ponette

I am becoming quite the thrify shopper. Today I bought 2 shirts, three pairs of funky socks, a rawkin hat and two new rekkids for my wall collage - all for the amazingly low price of $16. Shop in North Park, yo. My stuff is still in storage in OKC, which makes for very lonely walls and shelves. So, since most thrift stores sell old albums for about $1, I decided this would be a nice way to decorate and bring some homeiness to my room until I can get my art here. Each record is carefully chosen. First record I ever memorized the songs - John Denver: Rocky Mountain High. First artist I ever requested on radio: Billy Joel. First song I ever got my grove on in public to: ABBA, Take A Chance on Me. First album that made me want to be in the music business: James Taylor, Sweet Baby James. And, well, Peter Frampton's I'm in You is up there because he invited me to lunch once in the mid 90's when I was working with a friend of his and I looked at him dead serious and asked, "So, Peter, what do you do?" His reply? "I sing a bit."

I now have a collection of albums, purses, rings, books, CDs, hats and stationary. Madness. If I'm not careful I will turn into my grandmother. Still, if anyone would like to contribute to the "must have" album collection, please e-mail me. You know you're not doing jack with your old rekkids.

When I was showering this morning I had a random thought.
:::Harmon Killebrew, did you ever get my letter? Ten pages of clear blue skies.
Green diamonds and days gone by. I wonder why,
those days are going, going gone.:::

It's a song by a guy named Jeff Arundel. About eight years ago he played a show at a club in Nashville where I was the promoter. I had never heard of him and had a hard time promoting the show. His management at the time had sent me a press kit with a couple copies of his latest CD. Unfortunately, we were always swamped and I never bothered to listen to it until that night of his performance at about midnight when I was falling asleep. I thought it was really good and I was pissed at myself for not attending the show. (Good writing, kind of manic despression mixed with nostalgia. Nice guitar) The next day when I came into work I asked our booking guy how everything went. "You're not allowed to take off again." he said.

Apparrantly Mr. Arundel got so drunk before his set that he slured his words, became cranky and only sang half the songs he had scheduled. "They don't get drunk when YOU check on them", he said. He sincerely had a theory that musicians don't drink as much before or after a show when an innocent looking woman brings them thier dinner.

I don't know about that, but I do know that I have been listening to this CD at least every other month since then and I always wonder whatever became of the guy. I wish I could say it's briliant writing all around, but the fact is, it might just be that it marks a spot in my life. Music does that. "Ride the Ride" reminds me of that ride I was on back then. Not very SG, but nice Sunday nostalgia.

I'm riding on a ferris wheel
a madman at the lever
he's got it down upon it's knees
squeezing so it cannot breathe
you could see the sparks a-flyin'
from the mansions on the hill
I thought one day we'd live there
I guess we never will
and all at once I'm standing still
the world is turning way too fast...
I can't say that this was meant to last
'cause I was always tryin'to reach
the thing beyond my grasp
and how much love gets lost along the way?
I got home and found out pretty fast

- from Left At Last, Jeff Arundel, Ride the Ride