Friday, October 20, 2006

Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird (live@Oakland)

OCTOBER 20th 1977

Monday, September 04, 2006

Eric Clapton - Layla (live)

I know I haven't been around lately (new job and all), but it's my day I though I'd post this...see if it works...I'll post some musings soon enjoy

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Guns N' Roses - Aerosmith: Mama Kin

Guns N' Roses playing "mama kin" live in paris in 1992

Wednesday, August 09, 2006


Or does it seem like the average, everyday, bum getting more aggressive? I used to be one of those people who let things go. I often gave a person who was seeking a handout the benefit of the doubt. I figured maybe they weren’t ALL winos and crack-heads, some could possibly be out of work Enron executives (somewhat lower than a crack-head) or maybe a poor bastard who had his wife leave him and take everything he owns, but whatever the story…I try to be compassionate in a standoffish sort of way. Hell…I’ve even been known to let go of a dollar or two when I had it to spare.

So, that is why I get particularly PISSED OFF when a bum gives me shit. That’s right wash my mouth out with soap, but that’s just what this bum did to me today…because I wouldn’t give him a dollar.

My lawnmower ran out of gas while I was mowing the lawn this morning. So I grabbed up my little 1 ½ gal gas can and trudged up to the service station. I went in and told the attendant that I needed $2.00 worth of regular and proceeded out the door to PUMP#1.

As I was headed out the door some guy said “Hey man! I ain’t seen you in a long time! How you doing?” I didn’t have a clue as to whether I had ever met this person or not, but it’s not unusual for people to know me, and me NOT know them. I’ve lived and worked in the neighborhood most of my life, people come and go, but I’m usually a constant.

I acknowledged his greeting with the customary head nod and “I’m fine.” I usually keep my responses brief with questionable people, IE: Those that SAY they know me, but I don’t recollect ever meeting. There is usually some request to follow, so, why engage them in conversation? I already have an idea where it’s going to end.

Sure enough…as I’m pumping my measly $2.00 worth of gas into my can he makes his first pitch.

“Hey man, I hate to bother you and all, but can I borrow a $1.00 from ya?”

I replied… “Sorry man, I spent my LAST $2.00 on gas for my lawnmower.”

Now this should have ended it with most people, but not this persistent bastard… “Aw come on” he said, “I know you gotta dollar, just a dollar man?” “I need some gas to.”

It continued much the same way while I was trying to fill up my little can, paying close attention so as not to spill one drop of the precious, overpriced, liquid.

Finally as I was putting the cap on the can, he began to walk away, but not before muttering… “Damn white people…won’t even give a brother a dollar.” Then he turned around and hollered… “You MUTHAF**KERS is the REASON GAS IS SO HIGH!!”

I just looked at him and thought… Is that anyway to get someone to give you something? I mean lets face it… I knew if I was to give him a dollar I would never get it back, and I wouldn’t EXPECT it back. But, don’t PISS ON MY HEAD AND TELL ME IT’S RAINING either! Don’t get mad at me when your DUMBASS, PANHANDLING, PLOY DON’T WORK!

I wonder if he would have commented on my lack of pigmentation if I had given him a dollar? More than likely this ASS-HOLE would have asked if that was all I had?

I wonder if ALL US MUTHAF**KERS would have been to blame if I had given him a dollar? Or would just some of us muthaf**kers have been to blame?

I guess it’s a bold new world when the bums are trying to impose white guilt on someone who is just barely getting by himself, but isn’t hanging out at the gas station yet.

What really PISSES ME OFF, is that if I had money to spare…I may have given it to him. But, what if I had…and then he decides to pull the same shit on someone else who was not in a position to give him something…like he did to me?

It ALMOST makes want to give up on humanity.

I remember coming up as a kid and hanging around the neighborhood winos. They were a different breed back then. Most of em were affable even when they were sloppy drunk. Kinda like Curtis Lowe, they were neighborhood characters whose drunken exploits entertained the neighborhood. Hell, you might even be led to bring one over for Thanksgiving or at least bring him a plate.

Whatever happened to those guys? Is there some kind of derelicts union or something now? Some kind of collective bargaining for street bums? I don’t remember the winos of old feeling like they were entitled to anything. They were bums, they knew it, and they blamed themselves. They usually ended their pitch with… “please.”

That’s why I am calling a temporary hold on ALL my contributions to BUMS… until they bring back some CIVILITY to begging.

If you are a BUM, and you have CHOSEN to be one… don’t be afraid to ask for a handout, but be humble enough to recognize that YOU ARE NOT ENTITLED TO ONE!

Oh… and entertain me or something…damn-it !

Friday, July 21, 2006


I hear a lot about father and son bonding. I’ve experienced it firsthand on a fishing trip or on a trip to buy my first car. However, I have never had a bonding experience while WORKING with or for my dad.

I can only come to ONE CONCLUSION: We are BOTH too HARDHEADED to truly get along in a work environment.

Don’t get me wrong, I respect my dad. I understand that he has years of experience on me, but he WILL NOT admit that he is WRONG about anything. It has been like that most of my life and it hasn’t changed in 45yrs.

My dad got me into the Millwright Union when I was a kid. I went through 4yrs (split up with 2yrs in between) of apprenticeship. The union said I was good enough to be a journeyman millwright after 4yrs, but if I ever worked on a job with my dad (and I have)…you would have thought I was a 1st year apprentice who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. Not only that but GOD HELP me if I got on a job and my dad was foreman. I might as well have been a RED-HEADED STEP CHILD. My old man would work me TWICE as hard as anyone else. I understood his reasoning behind it, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Whatever happened to nepotism? Couldn’t I get ONE TIT JOB?

I volunteered to do a job for my dad (clear 300ft of land for a fence line) and now it’s like I’m a 1st year apprentice all over again. Apparently I can’t read a tape measure? Apparently I can’t set a bench mark? Apparently the bench mark that he set is wrong, but it’s my fault? No! I know I set the damn benchmark in the RIGHT PLACE! He knows I set the benchmark in the RIGHT PLACE! But he ain’t gonna say so. Nope, he is gonna go with his memory and come off of what he thinks is the right benchmark which is the corner of someone else’s property and not the corner of his property. Yes dad there is red flag there, but it’s not your red flag…your red flag is where MY BENCHMARK IS!

Frustrating as it all is, I’ll finally acquiesce and end up clearing half a frigging forest and then (and only then) will it come out that my benchmark is right.

I love the old man, but damn he’s hardheaded…so, I guess I come by it naturally.

I need to keep a firm reign on my tongue, do as I’m told. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be around... No need to let a fence come between us.

Monday, July 03, 2006


Club Paris!?!

No, no, no…I don’t mean hit the bitch. I mean Paris snubbed the opening of her new nightclub in Jacksonville… CLUB PARIS.”

I’m really not surprised that Paris was a no show, I doubt she really knows where Jacksonville is. Yeah, she made an appearance here when the Super Bowl was in town, but it’s not like the dumbass piloted the private jet that flew her into town herself.

I’m a little more interested in why anyone thinks a CLUB PARIS is gonna survive in Jacksonville anyway? Don’t get me wrong… I’m all for bringing more attention to the city, I’m all for revitalizing downtown, but CLUB PARIS seems kind of Haute Culture to me (I have no idea if that is even a phrase).

I propose that the citizens of Jacksonville give Paris a chance to make up for snubbing the 2000 invited guest who attended the opening of her ritzy, overpriced, den of iniquity (ok… I know that’s an archaic term, but I’ve always wanted to use it), but what could we invite her to make an appearance at?

She seems to like football (at least Super Bowl parties anyway), maybe we could invite her to a Jaguar’s game? How about a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert? Maybe she could dance nekkid at the Gold Club? She could throw out the first pitch at a Suns game or bring a new episode of the Simple Life to town and have her wait tables at a Sonny’s Barbecue on the Westside? Oh… what to do, what to do?

Forgive my sarcasm…, but I could give a rats ass, as to whether Paris snubbed the opening of her new club, or not. I think it’s pretty telling of her own opinion about fame and celebrity. SHE’S A FLASH IN THE PAN AND SO IS HER CLUB! SHE KNOWS IT!!!

Hell, give me something tried and true… like a Hard Rock Café or a Planet Hollywood. Somebody on a message board wrote just what I think about Paris in a response to a post about this subject… “People famous for being famous...pfffft!”- TENENIT

I wonder if there is a death pool for nightclub ventures? If so, this one should be on the list… I may be wrong, but I don’t see it lasting long.

Here is a review from someone who actually got to attend the opening of the club. His review is much more polished than my scathing criticism of a pop culture tragedy in the making.

To borrow a line from Monty Python…“AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT” (Well almost)…

Q: What did Paris Hilton’s right leg say to the left leg?
A: Nothing. They've never met.
A: Between the two of us, we can make a lot of money.

Q: How can you tell when Paris is dating?
A: By the buckle print on her forehead.

A: Paris going through a flashing red light.

Q: Why can't Paris get a drivers license?
A: Because every time the instructor says "Let's park" she jumps in the back seat.

Q: Why does Paris have TGIF on her shoes?
A1: Toes Go In First.
A2: Tits Go In Front.

Paris was walking along, when she looked up to observe a bird flying overhead. Suddenly, the bird drops a load when it was directly over her. Paris says,"Good thing I had my mouth open, or that would've hit me right in the face!!!"

Paris and Nicole are walking along in a park. Nicole says suddenly, "Awww, look at the dead birdie."Paris stops, looks up, and says, "Where?"

Q: What do Paris Hilton and a beer bottle have in common?
A: They're both empty from the neck up.

Monday, June 26, 2006


Today a group of bloggers are mourning the passing of one of their own, Rob Smith AKA Acidman.

I came across his blog a little more than a year ago. I was beginning to get interested in blogging and was reading various blogs to see what was out there, looking for a bit of inspiration. Most of what I had read discouraged me a bit. Some of it was too intellectual, some of it was not intellectual enough. Some of it was too political or seemed to be trying to promote some political agenda, and some of it was just plain drivel.

Then I came across “GUT RUMBLES” and my outlook about blogging changed in an instant.
This man could be inspiring one moment and scary the next, but he always spoke his mind. He didn’t dance to anybodies tune, except his own.

I never had the pleasure of meeting Rob in person and have only exchanged one brief email (about Delbert McClinton of all things) with him, and he did link to this post once. I am only one of many who have never met Rob personally, but has been deeply touched by his writings.

There may be others with similar qualities, but Rob was ONE OF A KIND, unique and yet approachable.

To Sam, Quinton, and the rest of the family…I wish you all the best and offer my heart felt condolences.