Wednesday, November 30, 2011


     Sector 19312 was grim yesterday. Wretched, Eternally Wet and Black, barely only briefly verging into the deepest drabbest Greys.  

     Add one cheap plastic Korean car, slippery-with-leaves roads, obstacle course detours, and the wine aroma known as "wet dog" and all kind feelings wash down the culvert.

     I turned on the radio looking for a Sign and found Three.  (Thank the Lord.)

     First, there was 2-4-6-8 Motorway by the Tom Robinson Band.  It had been so long since I'd heard it and it was even better than I remembered. Kinks-derivative but in the best possible way.  “Ain’t no use setting up with a bad companion.”  Amen.

     Then 53rd & Third by The Ramones, one of Dee-Dee’s realest, truest memories plainly spoken to a tragic melody.  Its stiff awkward gait in night-and-day contrast to the group's usual speedy, gleeful kineticism.  No smiles here at all, only flayed forms in high relief.  I know that corner so well.  I used to park my car there.

     Finally, New Orleans by Gary U.S. Bonds.  Sometimes they say “they don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” but they never really made ‘em like Gary’s noisy, joyful, slippery records, which sound like the Underworld raised to Heaven for party purposes. Caroline worked with Gary during his "This Little Girl of Mine" comeback period and I was lucky enough to meet and share cocktails with him one night.  Gary (Anderson) was one of the most intelligent, charming and charismatic people I’ve ever met, one of those men who seem to know everything.

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