Dirty Bird

            I have a convertible. It’s an older model but it works just fine. For the most part I leave the top down, it’s Los Angeles and the weather is mostly sunny.

            I was going to the studio to record some tracks, and I got into my convertible. I noticed that a bird had crapped on my center council, right square in the middle. It was an amazing shot. I looked around and there were no trees above my car, no ledges or over hangs. The bird had done it on the fly. I got to thinking, what’s the probability of that? I mean really. It was perfect timing on the bird’s part, perfect trajectory. It would have made the Air Force proud. I thought of the bird looking back and laughing. Nice shot dirty bird.

The Oddity

            Have you ever known somebody who tells the same story over and over, and no matter how many times you've seen them it’s like the very first time every time. I wonder why that happens, is it lack of memory, or is it that the person just wants to be heard. What do you do in that situation? Do you say yeah I know, I’ve heard that story six times before, or do you let them tell it over and over? I figure if they can’t remember that they’ve told the story six times before, they’ll never remember that I told them I’ve heard it before.  I guess it doesn’t matter what I say, they’re going to tell the story one way or another. That's the oddity.

Bottom Beating and Taco Feeding

Well, we had them dancing last night. The kids were going ape, drunkards more than likely. Two different women slapped me on the ass while I was playing. My posterior is exposed as the ladies make their way to the restroom; it’s an odd stage configuration that leaves me venerable to the abusers. At my age you take what you can get.

            After the gig on my way home I like to stop at a makeshift taco joint. It’s in the parking lot of a local tire center and auto repair shop. It’s common in Los Angeles to set up shop on a good corner, or in front of your house and sell tacos. This place sells tacos al pastor in a manner I haven’t had since my days traveling on bus through Mexico. They have an excellent choice of salsas and the fellows manning the grill have an energy about them that reminds me of Mexico. I think they’re from Mexico, it’s hard to tell.