That's all I'm seeing this morning.
Sunshine. The cat in the window, dreaming of birds.
The Fireball Kid aka Spitfire McGee aka Princess Sweetpea the Incorrigible, over there looking all innocent.
Got some good sleep last night, I guess.
Minds were blown last night at the Ohio Sixth Floor Studio. A bunch of us were shown a video and given a talk about microfinancing in Africa.
With a fifty cent stake a guy built up three businesses. From stealing in the street to running three businesses. Starting with less than it takes to buy a cup of coffee in this town.
No IMF, no fatcat thief taking a cut, money from you to a nun to another woman to him.
I know. Way too good to be true, but I think its real. I'll check it out, let you know.
NYU is furiously back-pedaling on the Provincetown Playhouse. When someone's back-pedaling, that's the best time to give them a little push, as my Daddy always told us back in the holler.
Obies tonight. The usual drinking and lying and clapping for strangers, I imagine.
In honor of my Daddy (who actually grew up out in Queens) our MMMQ has an Appalachian accent to it this morning.
Awhile back the good and generous Amy Shore gave me The Essential Bluegrass Collection, 64 Legendary Performances. 4 Disc set, filled with Lester Flatt and Merle Travis and all of those old redneck crackers, a-fiddling and a-twanging away.
So which one of the below is not so much a legendary performance as a glass of hogwash, a counterfeit, a hornswaggling load of patootie?
1. Fort Worth Hambone Blues
2. Old Black Mountain Saturday Night
3. Conversation with a Mule
4. Hot Damn Mama, Come Home Tonight
Jug of moonshine for the winner, pigs feet for all those hood-winked.