I play out a fair bit around town.  I'll pick up a writer's round here and there mostly just because I like to sing and I don't get to all that often.  There's one place in town that we all kind of think is a dump, but the fun of playing it to me is that it's a great place to do my new untried and untested stuff.  It's like my personal science lab--some fly and some flop.  And it's also a great hang.  I've met some of the greatest writers there, both the famous (in my mind, at least) and the soon-to-be famous.  There really is a community of songwriters in Nashville and this place is a great place for it.

The place is a restaurant and it's not like some places in Nashville where you have to be quiet and listen, but, usually, if you're good, people are going to be fairly quiet and listen just because.  But, upon occasion, a group of uninformed patrons will stumble in and not know what's going on and decide to try to talk over the music.  See, you can talk during the music.  That's not an issue at all.  But, the talking over the music is--considering we're playing on a a pretty big PA system.  Talking over the music essentially requires shouting, and then you're shouting at each other and then everyone else in the place is distracted and irritated.   

So, I'll admit that I can count two times when I didn't have the audience on my set.  I'm not saying it's because I write all these great songs and they couldn't stand to miss a single lyric.  I think it's mostly because I sing loud and people are frightened.  The first time people shouted over me, my friend Allen way playing with me and he kept getting cracked up during my songs.  He said the more they would shout, the louder I would sing and the harder I'd pound on the keyboard.  I think that was my enormous ego coming to the surface.  ha  

Last night, however, it was just over the top.  There were a group of about 8 people at a table who were just there for dinner and had zero interest in any of the music.  They just wanted us to shut up so they could talk.  It wasn't anything personal, but the other people there were getting visibly irritated.  One man toward the front even shushed them.  Oh dear.  

Since it was just so far past the point of ridiculous for us to even be trying to wade through, I guess I got a little silly (shock) and so here's the intro to my last song:  

"Here's the song that I guess put me on the map, so to speak.  Hope you enjoy it and thanks for listening."

 And then I began singing:  "He said, I was in my early forties, with a lot of life before me when a moment came a stopped me on a dime..."

 Silence! Even the waitress stopped and looked up.  Excellent.

And then I stopped and said, "I'm such a little liar," and then kicked off my real last song.  

I think I will have arrived when I can sing the first line of a song I'VE written and even the rude patrons shut up and listen.  That's success, gang.  True success. Hat tip to Craig Wiseman and Tim Nichols.   

-b 

Anway, I watched the movie yesterday.  It really wasn't that great of a movie, but it was good to me because of the familiarity.  I've also always been taken with the story of how the bridge fell and I didn't realize that the Mothman sightings stopped in WV after that.  You can still see the bases of the fallen bridge today (or you could the last time I went home.) 

Well, gang, all I do know on this is that if the creature below was flying alongside my car down RR 62 at any point, much less at night, I'd probably have some sort of freakout and wreck the car anyway.  So, a nod to all those innocent souls who actually made it to the sheriff's office to tell about it.

-b

Horrifying. 

On so many levels.

-b

We hiked to the top of a mountain and I had to sit down.  See my shoe in the bottom of the shot?  That was purely to give you perspective on what I was actually seeing.  I'd probably hike more if I got rewarded like this...

Here is where you'd never want to park your car.  Ever.  All the white spots on the rocks are birds--they roost here. 

Skiing would probably be cold...

This is called the Surprise Glacier.  The shot is taken from a half a mile away (gps accuracy).  I'd never seen actual ice blue before, but it's not just a crayon color.  We fished a piece of the glacier (or a piece of an iceberg, actually) out of the water, washed it off and crunched on it.  I mean, how often do you get to lick history?  Or, eat a piece of ice that's hundreds of thousands of years old?  Of course, while I was crunching I looked at Jim's uncle and said, "This is where the wooly mammoth walked, huh?  So, it's possible that I'm ingesting wooly mammoth pee, huh?"  But, hey, who gets to say that either?  Win/win.   

I think this is called a Dall Sheep.  Nonetheless, it's on the stinking SIDE OF THE ROAD!

Moose on the side of the road, anyone?  

 And, finally, I used to think I grew up in a small town.  No more.  I present to you the entire town of Whittier, AK.  The entire population of the town lives in this building which also houses the medical clinic and the post office.  I think we can safely say that NO ONE gets away with ANYTHING here.  

Okay, that's your quick tour with huge pictures.  When I'm more awake, I'll set up a photo album for your snooping pleasure, but it's not going to be today. 

Meanwhile, WHY I set up a show tonight is beyond me.  If you're planning on coming out and I'm half asleep, it's nothing personal.  I just haven't seen a dark sky in days. 

-b

Eleven of these in your pocket weigh 30 pounds.  I know this because I bought stamps from the machine in the post office (rather than stand in the absurdly long line to purchase the stamps from the employee at the counter) and I was punished by getting eleven dollars in change in the form of eleven $1 coins.  Hence, I hereby announce my full support for the actual "Save the Greenback" organization (yes, it's a real organization.  Go figure.) 

-b

-b