Two Days Straight

Only, Not Two Days Sober

There is a Muddy Waters song, off of his "Hard Again" album, which just starts off with him singing : "Whoa!" a cappella, which is echoed by the same note, bend on a guitar string.

Then Muddy sings: "Everything is gonna be alright!" before the rest of the band comes in with a vamp very similar to the one in Mannish Boy. Then the song, which I can't remember the name of, continues.

The name of the song escapes me because, outside of hearing it a thousand times when I had the cassette as a 14 year old, I now only listen to the line: "Everything's gonna be alright!" and then stop it.

It's kind of like a Reader's Digest condensed version of a blues song. Enough to get the gist of it and have my mood elevated when pressed for time.

The album title "Hard Again" is, yes, a sexual innuendo that refers to a part of the male anatomy. 

I didn't catch that when I was a naive 14 year old Catholic school student.

I had bought the cassette because I wanted to broaden my horizons and add the Delta blues to my bag of guitar tricks. It also went over my head that there is a harmonica and piano in the recording. I just wasn't that aware of the separate instruments that go into an ensemble. The intro to "Love Me Do" by the Beatles, I just thought was "some sound" that the Beatles made; because they were that good.

I read somewhere that Muddy was very sexually promiscuous, had fathered something like 3 dozen illegitimate children, and that his music was littered with allusions to it. If something could be interpreted two ways, then it was certainly meant the dirty way of the two, in Muddy's repertoire. 

It's kind of clever to use the blues cliche that way, now that I think of it. Coupled with the image of him on the front cover, it's kind of classic. And, since it went over my head, I wasn't corrupted.

Disgusting!

Doing Things Ass Backwards

Reversing my schedule, so as to put getting on the computer first, has already brought to fruition two consecutive days of blog posts.

I can rebuild this blog; I can make it better, faster, stronger. I can litter it with double entendres...

And, of course, the weed guy called me as soon as I started typing; probably to say that he is right around the corner, with bags of weed in the convenient 5 dollar baggies that he trades in. But after swiping upward 3 times "to answer" on my new phone, I was unsuccessful. It just kept sliding back to where it started. I have missed several calls that way.

His call might have gone to my voice mail box message. I need to call myself sometime just to see what that message sounds like. I remember grabbing my guitar and hitting a chord as soon as I was instructed to "begin speaking after the tone," and singing some kind of greeting that popped into my head.

I think it is rude to not answer a call if I can; although it is a pain in the butt (disgusting, George Michaels) to have to tell the guy that I don't want a sack of weed.

I need to download that song "The Pusher" or pusher man, or whatever the title is and learn it. I think I could perform it with integrity if I dedicate it to the skinny black man who calls me regularly advertising his "fire from Colorado" or whatever his flavor of the day is...

The sun is about to go down. The Warren Easton High School drummers are banging away a block down the street. I need to bring my phone with me and record a few minutes of them and then use it in one of my songs; like how Fleetwood Mac incorporated the U.S.C. marching band into their "Tusk" song (speaking of double entendres in music).

I might just do that, on my way to the store to get a couple 24 ounce cans of beer, but no sake. No more sake. For my own sake, no more sake!