Friday, December 28, 2018

Oops Doo Dee Doo, Reprint

I was just kidding yesterday, here is the real "Seeds" song, written by my friend, Ted Broughey.
I posted the one with the annoying "production" stuff left in it, like the slowing down in the intro, as if the performer is pausing to decided if he wants to do the song, or something. And then a bunch of washed out sounding stuff that had been stretched or shrunk too many times, losing precious bits through each operation.

The Lidgley's Parcel
From the land of sheep and tourism, comes a lesson on weight vs. value.
I was called by the security lady a little before 4 PM to notify my that "you have a package up front."
They do this to free themselves of liability should the package come up missing.
I had been placing my eggs in the very shaky basket of the parcel that the Lidgleys have been sending each Christmas arriving on just this day - miraculously, since one year it didn't come until February 22nd*- after having gone out and made nothing busking on a Thursday night, after it had started raining pretty hard, causing me to pack up, and then had stopped, causing me to sit down and start playing again, and then had started again, causing me to just go home.

gluten intolerant Rhianna
I resisted the temptation to buy some sugar along the way. I was craving it, but, through the grace of God, there was no cereal on sale at Walgreen's (and I'm not going to pay five bucks for a box of Raisin Bran) and there were no eggs for a dollar a dozen, as there were no eggs.

This ruled out making the gluten free cake or whatever it is that I had bought for 74 cents at The Salvage Store Discount Grocery.

One of the girls who works there, Brianna, had been studying the package before putting it back on the shelf out of the cart full of such stuff. I wonder if she is gluten intolerant. The "gluten free" designation on the package was about the only thing to separate it from all the other cake mixes in that aisle. She would be the second very pretty gluten intolerant girl that I know, if that were the case. The other one is named Rhianna.

But, I still have the cake, which has tapioca, rice flour and other interesting ingredients, but which list "sugar" first. 3 large eggs are called for in the baking process. Might I have been contemplating punishing myself for not having made anything.

Easily, the best item in the parcel that came from the Lidgley's of London was also the lightest one.
I was thinking about the parcel, as I walked towards the front desk. Mostly I was thinking about how I could have been more in touch with the Lidgleys throughout the year, and how any correspondence preceding the holiday would have made me feel as though I was reminding them of my existence.
But, had I been more conscientious, I might have noted their running concerns over meeting certain weight limits when sending stuff and told them that I still had plenty of heavy body wash in tea oil and lemon scents left from previous parcels. I alternate it with a plethera of other such soaps that people seem to love to donate to the homeless and which pile up around Sacred Heart, and I bath more than shower, so...
But the cue seems to have been picked up by The Lidgley, with Alyne apologizing for having taken "the chocolate" out of the box, replacing it perhaps, with the "sheep sheltering by the dry stone wall" which I have found to be entirely made out of wool, probably from sheep.
  
And, guitars always sound better with a fresh set of strings on them every 3 or 4 days...

It is a Friday night and the Sugar Bowl is in town.

It is time to become very motivated to go out and sacrifice the next 4 hours in order to obtain a more relaxed immediate future.
I have brand new strings on the guitar, which I put on last night, so I could record additional parts to the song above, namely a fake bass played on the guitar and then dropped down an octave in order to enact the ruse.
I was thinking about how that was my last set of new strings and that, by putting them on and then playing the hell out of them, I was curtailing their life out at the Lilly Pad, but that the Broughey recording should be worth it...
New strings, new batteries for the spotlight, a can of cat food, check.

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