Trump signs Executive Order banning Ace Backwords from posting any more photos of feral cats on his Facebook page.
“It’s a national emergency,” stated Trump in a crucial presidential tweet. “The American people are sick of looking at those damn cats, many of whom are living in the woods illegally. They come flooding across our news feeds bringing nothing but cuteness and the deaths of countless mice.”
Today I came across a copy of this album from 1973, “Souther, Hillman, Furay” in a free-box. They were sort of a failed attempt at a Crosby, Stills & Nash supergroup. And on the back cover was a photo of the drummer Jim Gordon.
Jim Gordon is one of the weirder stories in the history of Rock’n’Roll Babylon. And, as a guy who had “issues” with my mother when I was a young man myself, it always struck a weird chord with me. . . At one point Jim Gordon was one of the most sought-after drummers in all of rock. And he played with the Everly Brothers, the Beach Boys, George Harrison, Zappa, Alice Cooper, Steely Dan, to name a few. So he had his shit together. For awhile. He didn’t start to disintegrate, mentally, until he went on Joe Cocker’s “Mad Dogs & Englishmen” tour — a tour legendary for its drug debauchment. This was followed by another legendarily drugged-out project — Eric Clapton’s “Derek & the Dominoes” album, where everyone in the band was strung out on hard drugs. Jim Gordon wrote the haunting piano piece that’s the coda of “Layla.”
After that Gordon began to lose his mind. He kept hearing voices in his head that tormented him. Mostly the voice of his mother. And the voices kept telling him to kill his mother. So finally, just to shut up the voices in his head, he stabbed his mother to death with a butcher knife.
When he was interviewed in prison later, he said the good news was that he had stopped hearing his mother’s voice in his head since she died.
The bad news was that he was now hearing his sister’s voice.
So I buy 11 dollars worth of groceries at Walgreen’s. And as I’m at the exit I put the bag down so I can put on my jacket. And then I walk up to the campus. But when I get to my stash spot on the campus where I want to stash some of the cat food in the bag, I realize — to my chagrin — that I am no longer carrying my bag of groceries.
Utilizing my sharp mind and impressive deductive reasoning abilities I conclude that I have stupidly LEFT THE FUCKING BAG BACK AT WALGREEN’S!!!
So I rush back down there as fast as I can (which isn’t very fast) and I realize — miraculously — the bag is still sitting there, and it’s sat there for an entire 40 minutes without some bum stealing it.
So now I’m happy, I got some good exercise (almost broke a sweat) and hopefully I burned off a little bit of this darn beer gut. The End
One time I was at a cubicle at the library on a computer and babbling away on my Facebook page. And I got a message: “Look to your immediate right.” And one of my Facebook friends was sitting there at the computer in the next cubicle.
We smiled and waved to each other. And then went back to messaging each other back and forth on our computers.
Ha ha. Welcome to the modern age.
My older sister is a big telephone user. One time she invited me over to her house for lunch. But she spent pretty much the whole time on the phone, fielding one call after another.
So the next time, I had lunch by myself at my place. And called her on the phone while I was eating. We had a very nice conversation.
One of my Facebook friends sent me this high school yearbook picture of some of the kids I went to school with when I was a little kid. Which brought back a lot of memories:
One guy I remember is Herby Cole. The one thing I remember about him: In the 4th grade we were playing kickball at recess at the playground, and Herby Cole got into some kind of altercation with a player on the other team at 2nd base. One of the bad-asses in our class (he was already smoking cigarettes — “butts” he called them — in the 4th grade). And he punched Herby in the mouth and knocked Herby’s front teeth out (the kid was wearing this ring on his finger with a big stone in it, so that thing was like brass knuckles). I remember it distinctly because I was the 2nd baseman. And later I was called to a meeting with the principal along with Herby and the kid and their parents. I had to give my eye-witness account. And the kid ended up getting suspended and that’s the last I saw of him.
The other thing I remember about Herby Cole. In the 3rd grade, on the days it rained and we couldn’t have recess outside, we played this game in the classroom called Eraser Tag. Two people would put these chalkboard erasers on top of their heads. And one would chase the other around in a circle, trying to tag the other. And if the eraser fell off the top of your head you were out — so it was hard to run very fast because you had to keep the eraser balanced on top of your head..
Herby Cole happened to have an almost completely flat head (accented by his flat-top crewcut — all the kids who grew up in the ’50s and ’60s remembers those). So he could run like crazy at top speed and never have to worry about the eraser falling off his head. So Herby Cole completely dominated at eraser tag. He was like the Michael Jordan of eraser tag.