Hoping for Film At 11

These are certainly strange days.  Again, I thought I might be nearly cured of ailments because I have done a lot of work in the hot sun lately without the attack of being skinned alive one molecule thick layer at a time.  Or so it seems.

I was wrong.  I was at work and it came on like gangbusters--whatever a gang buster is.  I'm all for busting gangs--I despise people who hang packs, like hyenas.  Sorry, Hell's Angels, you suck, too.

Anyway, I kept trying to keep it at bay after it began and did OK long enough for others to leave, then it got bad enough I was yelling and screaming, sort of.  Crazy.

But tonight I met up with the Enter Blue Sky people--I do not call people folks if I can help it.  Only when it makes solid sense.  So we met up at a jam place, a musician bar.  A lot of those people are halfway making a living playing.

We only did three songs, but it is the first time I've play out in public with them, and only the fourth time playing with Sande.  It is the second time everyone was present.  That makes a bug difference.  I don't do it the same.  The unique sound really seemed to grab people and the last song brought down the house.   They clapped in the middle of my solo, which was an attempt at spontaneous combustion in B minor.   All original tunes by Sande.  I love her material.  I only hope it all translates to the video which will be made tomorrow by her husband.

A new experience for everyone I guess.  Harmonica is rarely paired up with high quality violin and keyboards.  With her driving rhythm guitar, and the bass and drums, it works.   Never been in a band of six before.  And they pulled me in last.  The blend is unique when we pull it off.  I'm very nervous, and excited about this. It is fun, keeps me off the streets, and out from under a dumpster breathing my last.  So, it is good.

Apparently I am not healed yet.   Well, who is?

I really want to change some stuff.  Like how I live.  Not so much where, just how.

Now that I think of it, it is pretty cool that I got enthusiastic reactions while I was doing my solo on that last song.  A little lighter fluid and the combustion would have occurred.    That was the only time that happened all night.  Every other time they just waited until the end for applause.  But there was some whooping in between, here and there.

What a sick glutton for approval or adoration or whatever it is that separates performers from sane and balanced individuals.  I always admired sane and balanced  to the extreeme and longed to be that.  At this point I'm thinking, "Forget that.  Go to plan B.