Friday. It’s okay. Sunday and in Ft. Worth? Check this out!

Fri­day. What a concept.

I once lived for Fri­day to arrive. That is when I worked, roughly, five days a week. My record on such a sched­ule was rather spotty up until the last 20 years or so. That is, if you don’t include those four years I spent in col­lege, dur­ing which time I mostly worked full time at a rate of 24 hours on and 48 hours off, which was a 56-hour work week. Now there was a concept!

These days, I no longer work full time. Well, some­times I do and some­times I don’t. When I do it is usu­ally more than a 48-hour work week. I had no illu­sions that work­ing as a writer was going to be easy and, sure enough, it hasn’t been easy. In fact, I tell peo­ple these days that my part-time job “sup­ports my writ­ing habit.” I’m not lying much when I say that.

Still, I remem­ber Fri­days. My friends Rob­bie, Judy, some­times Tonya, Brenda, Delia, Rick, Beth or whomever. Mostly Rob­bie, Judy and I — the Yel­low Dogs. Long story. We’d go one place or the other for a mar­garita. Some­times Judy’s artist hus­band would meet us and he and I would design water tow­ers for small cities which looked like a large mar­garita glass, except it would be lean­ing. Like Pisa. Those were good times. Some­times we didn’t even wait for Fri­day. Some­times it would be a Yel­low Dog Day — a day I’d describe as com­pa­ra­ble to a day you’re sit­ting back watch­ing the evening news and see your name as a cam­era pans down a law­suit. Yikes!

I’m such a ham. I wasn’t going to write about much and already look what you’ve done.

Okay, I will do some good for a change on this blog instead of writ­ing about pol­i­tics or the weather or the crazi­ness that passes for life. I will pro­mote my old buddy Jonathan’s gig in which his trio, the Jonathan San­son Trio will be record­ing a new, live CD. Jonathan just sent me an e-mail about it, albeit a mass e-mail, that’s what you do when you are a famous record­ing star in Fort Worth. Right, old buddy?  Just bust­ing your chops. I was going to buy some chops for din­ner, but I didn’t. So right now, I’ve got no other chops to bust. So you’re it, pal!

The Jonathan San­son Trio, fea­tur­ing Dan Tcheco on drums, Chris Carfa on bass and Jonathan on piano and vocals will be record­ing Sun­day, July 25, at Eddie V’s Lounge in Fort Worth. Too bad they couldn’t wait a week, since I will be head­ing for Den­ton exactly one week later. Hey, can’t you guys post­pone every­thing for one week, just for me? Yeah, and pigs make sched­uled flights between IAH and DFW!

I have heard some of the group’s record­ings and I look for­ward to hear­ing them live some day. Jonathan and I are old high school chums who lived across our family’s field from each other. Later, we hung out dur­ing our mil­i­tary days, he in the Air Force and me a Navy squid.

Jonathan says that every­one attend­ing will get a free copy of the CD the group is to record. The CD will come out, hope­fully JS said, in Sep­tem­ber. The great piano man also reminds every­one of the happy happy hour prices, if you like that sort of thing.

If you men­tion you heard about this on Eight Feet Deep, Jonathan might buy you a drink or he might gar­rote you with a piano wire. That’s his call. So if you are in what my friends from that area call “The Metro Mess” dur­ing that time, check it out.

This all happens:

6–10 p.m.

Sun­day, July 25

EV Museum Place

3100 West 7th Street

Fort Worth, TX 76107

817.336.8000

Open daily at 4:00pm.

See, I’ve got this song in my head

A pretty good pro­por­tion of the pop­u­la­tion — mean­ing a lot maybe but I don’t know how many exactly — gets songs stuck in their heads once in awhile.

It can hap­pen when you hear some­one whistling some tune while they toil away at some task or another. You go to your kids’ school plays and the lit­tle ones sing some­thing just dar­ling and later that night while you try to sleep that song is still there. And then, there is back­ground music as in music to shop by.

Now the grand­pappy of back­ground music, known as Muzak, has been around for years. As early as the 1950s — a time when the least lit­tle thing could get peo­ple wound up, a spe­cial con­gres­sional com­mit­tee would be formed — there were charges Muzak was caus­ing brainwashing.

I would imag­ine the sub­ject of manip­u­la­tion through back­ground music would be research gold for a music-loving social psy­chol­o­gist. From what lit­tle sci­en­tific read­ing I have done I don’t know this to be one way or the other a fact. This piece sug­gests that play­ing clas­si­cal music in a wine store made shop­pers buy more expen­sive wine. Whether that would mean that play­ing Sousa marches in a gun store would cause cus­tomers to arm them­selves to the teeth is some­thing to think about, but I don’t know that to have been specif­i­cally stud­ied and affirmed.

Nonethe­less, it seems at the very least back­ground music in gro­cery or depart­ment stores do seem to make songstuckus – my made-up word for a song being stuck in one’s head — more severe.

Since a great deal of my work is done in dif­fer­ent stores, I lis­ten to a lot of back­ground music. I never really thought much about store music until I started vis­it­ing many dif­fer­ent stores. Even when I go to stores now just to shop I am some­what taken aback by the vari­ety of back­ground music in stores.

Go to the store just up the street, with a decid­edly more work­ing class black pop­u­la­tion, and you may hear Soul from the 60s and 70s. Before you know it, you’re walk­ing out of the store with gro­ceries in your arms and Eddie Kendricks and the Temp­ta­tions in your head singing “The Way You Do the Things You Do.”

Some­times the songs you hear will stick with you even though you may not have ever heard them or hadn’t lis­tened to a par­tic­u­lar song in years. Like at a drug store in Port Arthur awhile back while wait­ing to speak with a phar­ma­cist. “Hmm, hmm, hmm.” Wow, what is this? And you remem­ber from way back to “Toulouse Street” on which the Doo­bie Broth­ers qui­etly sing “I might just pass this way again.”

Today it was early Bea­t­les I hear over and over. “If there’s any­thing that you want/If there’s any­thing I can do/Just call on me, and I’ll send it along/With love from me to you.” Such sim­ple, melodic, pop music. You won­der what all the hub­bub was about when the Bea­t­les first appeared on the scene wear­ing iden­ti­cal suits and mop­tops? Nonethe­less, the song got stuck in my head at a store this morn­ing and now I can’t get it out!

I don’t really know why music from the store has such an impact. It is played at level in most cases where it is almost sub­lim­i­nal, which makes some sense. But if it’s meant to affect you, to buy more toi­let paper and six-packs of Busch, then why does the lyrics and music get stuck in your head and not the prod­ucts themselves?

It’s jus another one of life’s great mys­ter­ies, unsolved, with love from me to you.

Who Put the Benzadrine in Mrs Murphys Ovaltine? — Harry “The Hipster” Gibson (1944)

This explains a lot.

At 5 a.m., buffalo chips is all it means to me

US Naval Obser­va­tory Mas­ter Clock Time:
Fri, 08 May 2009 10:06:12 UTC

Time Zones:
Fri, 08 May 2009 06:06:12 EDT
Fri, 08 May 2009 05:06:12 CDT
Fri, 08 May 2009 04:06:12 MDT
Fri, 08 May 2009 03:06:12 PDT
Fri, 08 May 2009 02:06:12 AKDT
Fri, 08 May 2009 00:06:12 HST

What on Earth am I doing awake at 5:06:12,13,14,15 … on Fri­day morn­ing May 8, 2009? That’s a good question.

Orig­i­nally my quest was to record some music off Nap­ster. Then it got com­pli­cated. Then once it got uncom­pli­cated, lis­ten­ing to the music with head­phones became com­pli­cated. Dang it. I just wanted to hear Chris Isaak sing Neil Diamond’s “Soli­tary Man” before I went to bed, along with Steely Dan’s “Night by Night,” and Tom T. Hall’s “Faster Horses” (a.k.a. “The Cow­boy and the Poet”)

“He smiled and all his teeth were cov­ered with tobacco stains, he said, “it don’t do men no good to pray for peace and rain. peace and rain is just a way to say pros­per­ity, and buf­falo chips is all it means to me.

“I told him i was a poet, i was lookin’ for the truth i do not care for horses, whiskey, women or the loot i said i was a writer, my soul was all on fire he looked at me an’ he said, “you are a liar.

it’s faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money”

Truer words were never spo­ken, at least at … now 5:15 a.m. Cen­tral Day­light Time. Hey, I’m on vaca­tion so there is no school, or work tomor­row, or today, what­ever it is. I live next to a Mex­i­can restau­rant and a one-minute drive to the Mar­ket Bas­ket. Looks like I’m cov­ered for nutri­tion even if the wait­resses have to pull a .357 on me to have a mar­garita on the rocks. No salt. So to quote that great Amer­i­can, Alfred E. Neu­man, “What me worry?”

Dr Hook ~~~ Millionaire…

I haven’t heard this in years. What a bunch of dis­gust­ing f**kers. I guess that’s why I always loved their music. So, let’s see how long this stays out there in the great blogosphero.

Merle Haggard — Rainbow Stew (1981)

We can always hope, can’t we Merle?