No elbows at the table is what my momma used to say. But I've recently come to appreciate them a lot more. The other day I went to see Mr. Thayer's show, (that's El Bow to you) at atwood's. And yes after doing some physical therapy (bending the elbow that is) I really became more appreciative. Or maybe it was due to a rude encounter between my arm and the curbstone at the bottom of my hill.
         Ah yes over the handle bars and it's vertigo on Vikadin, well that's after I got my scrip and went to the video store...
Maybe spring just has it in for some of us. Let the achooing commence!
    Still on Tuesdays we wander down to the C.C. basement and try not to make fools of ourselves (at least Dinty and I try to); in the course of trying make some chord changes fit into a pretty pile to throw words on top of.  
     It's a cure for pain one night and then you can't be satisfied the next. When a guy like Neil Cleary comes down and sings Whitchita Lineman; we can see his Glen Campbell and raise him a Gavelston. After that if he's got a big Al stasched in his back pocket, we're even. We are drinkin' and drivin' with a ramblin' gamblin' man at the wheel. Sean is playing with matches and talking about burning down this town, Kimon is sippin' on his pappy's brew, and Rose is singing about rainbows and lace. And then Lyle Brewer puts on Peggy and plays some solo on I'm so lonsome I could cry, it's all over and we are just along for the ride.
           Some times we have to drive.  In order to get Bo to play with us, we have to go to Vermont. Do we mind going up to The Langdon St Cafe? Hell, I went to Montpelier France this winter when we didn't have any gigs booked up there.
     Bo brought down Donna Lee and some red hot mama from Louisiana. We almost didn't need a microphone with Howlin' Wolf and all that gasoline....You and Me, Theresa, mama and the butter and egg man. And when Sean sings tell it to me and we don't tag it, that's one thing; but if after the greatest version ever of Windfall we don't: there's going to be trouble...
   And then there's always tomorrow night (or Tuesday).  Enough time for a bit of session brittanica (ask me, ask me, ask me!), or something by Asa. Cigareets and whiskey, and Dan riding herd on 40k. We're not so lonely, but we do have only four weeks or so left. Don't get elbowed out.