5/31/2012 – tonight we rehearse

We rehearse tonight, which we don’t do much because this band is made up of guys who are in various other bands and finding a night we can all get together is nearly impossible unless I bribe them with vats of beer. Anyway, we’ll bang out dozens of songs we’ve never played together before….and we need to learn all in around 2 hours. Will have to be in serious Ramones mode to get ’em all in. I hope Lenny doesn’t wear his orange shorts again ’cause they’re such a distraction.

At night the world sleeps and I walk around the house playing my electric guitar with no amp and thinking of cover songs we can do to fill in the sets. Then one comes in my head (based on anything really…I opened the fridge and saw a container of cherries and thought….”shit, Cherry Cherry is a killer tune”)  and if it’s got 3 chords max I print out the lyrics and add it to the setlist. It’s all very structured and well plotted you see.

Then I’ll text Wiggy at some extreme hour and he’ll say “never heard of it”. I’ll say “Neil Diamond” and then the text line goes dead. I actually know before I send a text whether or not he’s gonna respond, but I can’t help myself.

CDs should arrive in 2 weeks. I’m out scrounging for gigs…..which is difficult when the CD isn’t out and nobody has heard of your band. Already way too many people have asked if we play that Toby Keith song about the red cup. This makes me think maybe I’ve been away too long….and gives me nightmares of playing in front of chicken wire while being pelted with bottles by pissed off guys with big belt buckles and John Deere hats. Makes you wonder how “My Generation” is gonna go over….unless we play it with 2 pedal steels add some twang to the stuttering bit.

But it gets me out of the house. Last night I was doing the begging thing in a bar in Avoca, where they still allow smoking. I have no moral objection to this, but when I got home I realized I smelled like a miner’s cigar and my eyes were the color of a Phillies cap. Still, it’d be a great place to play. Nice and big and a toilet that flushes. I was already warned not to play too loud. I take that as a good omen. At least I didn’t get thrown out.

Onward we go into the great wide open. My $115 used Fender Squire Affinity Telecaster* awaits a vicious beating.

In a bit.


* from Wades World….the world’s greatest used music store by a ridiculously large margin


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