Hey, I got it done, don't expect too much out of me.

  I'm not going to screw around tonight. I got nothing, in particular, I feel like writing about, but what the hell. Never stopped me before.

 Kicking things off, here's a good piece on the young Black activists who led the charge to change the state flag last year. Our good friends Ashton Pittman and Nick Judin at the excellent Mississippi Free Press. Do check them out. Mainstream media is dying a slow death but, surprisingly, Mississippi's got several quality online news magazines. It's like the surfeit of colleges in this state. Never have been able to figure that out.

 I'll just reiterate, but the kids who're written up in this story are what keeps me sane. They've got no choice but to make the state something better than just a place where folks are from. Mississippi catches a lot of shit from the rest of the country, and much of it we deserve. But people, actual people, live here and try to thrive. It's harder than most people think. We're still dealing with the 1890 state constitution that goes out of its way to disenfranchise Black people. What's crazy is it does the same for poor White folks, which doesn't bother the Powers That Be, of course. Racism is a helluva thing.

 So this has slammed to a serious halt. I got a Golden Melody, another Hohner harp. However, I'm still not up for the compare-and-contrast. It's a good harmonica, though. Nice, bright sound, easy feel, just a good instrument all around.

 It's been a good twenty minutes since I wrote the above. I think I'll watch a crappy movie. For whatever reason, I've got a hankering for the Asylum version of John Carter, Princess of Mars. That's the actual title of the book Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote. I saw John Carter staying in a hotel during my Big Trip. It wasn't bad, really, but one understands just why it tanked.

 I need to get around to watching Horn From The Heart but I don't think tonight's the night. That has to be a night where I can pay attention, and that isn't happening tonight. I don't know why I feel so whipped but I do. Some good brain fluff might be the ticket, though.

 A couple hours later...

 Well, I'm watching Princess of Mars and it's... definitely an Asylum movie. It's only dusting over the source material, but that sort of goes without saying. Guy's supposed to be a Marine in Afghanistan rather than a Civil War vet. It's not bad - for an Asylum film, granted - but it is taking a while to get moving. The guy playing John Carter has all the charisma of a bowl of grits, though. And bless her heart, Traci Lords isn't much better.

UPDATE: John Carter is played by Antonio Sabato, Jr. That explains a whole lot about his acting skills.

 Man, I'll be glad when this sciatic nerve settles down. I don't like moving much, sure, but it sucks that much more when it hurts as bad as this does. Something to look forward to in my old age, I suppose. I bet that's when I regret my monkish ways the most.

 Anyway, I've got word count so I might as well pinch this off. I'm going to leave it open, though, in case something comes to me. I know I keep saying that, but you never know.

Not going to waste a good lyric on this, either.

  Yeah, I put this off again. It's just past 11 p.m. However, this time I made a conscious decision to not worry with it until after the evening nap. I don't know if that's better or worse. Actually, I really can't tell if it matters one way or another.

 Still in the grip of the blues, for what that's worth. Things are still tasteless and boring, and there's nothing I want to do but sleep. I go see the Therapist Tuesday, and she's going to suggest traveling, but honestly, I'm not interested in that. I'm half tempted to cancel the session. Once again, I'm just not particularly interested in talking to anyone, much less someone who's going to make me think about the state of things.

 The PowerDraw is still out in the aether and I'm still waiting on the Paul Butterfield book. I am in a weird mood about Butterfield here lately. He really didn't make too many worthwhile records under his name, but he made for a great sideman. I listened to Levon Helm & The RCO All-Stars this evening and that proves it.

 Which, for the most part, your better harmonica players make for better sidemen than band leaders. Sonny Boy Williamson (both) and Junior Wells aside, there aren't many who make better records on their own. Little Walter might be the one who was great on both sides. For sure, Big Walter and James Cotton are better as sidemen, due disposition for the former and the latter's scratchy voice. And I really can't think of a white harp man who, well, doesn't sound like a white guy singing the blues. Charlie Musslewhite's an incredible player, but he sounds like a dentist who plays on weekends with a bunch of other dentists when he sings.

 Okay, what else. I'm still not reading anything or really paying attention to much of anything. I'll probably save this for tomorrow's News, but it seems more likely than not the GOP in the Senate will trash any hope of a commission to investigate what went down on January 6. What's more likely is Mitch McConnell is worried about which Republican congress critters have direct ties to the Great American Temper Tantrum.

 If I had to bet, I'd say we're not going to see a commission or any in-depth investigation into what, if any, responsibility Congressional Republicans or, for that matter, Trump has with the GATT. I'm not exactly sure why McConnell, especially, is so against anything coming up. The GOP is owned by Trumpism and, frankly, they're all down with the idea of "overthrowing the government" A good three-fourths of Republican voters - as in the whole party - refuse to accept the reality of a Trump electoral loss.

 And I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. Trump will be cold and in the ground, and that bunch of weirdos will still be screaming about the election being stolen. They just can't accept that most of the country couldn't stand him. There was a poll concerning QAnon the other day, and it said 25% of Republicans think violence is required to put the country on what they consider the right track.

 Frankly, I'm not worried. If the GATT proved anything beyond a shadow of a doubt, it's that hardcore conservatives don't have the spine to go against any real resistance. They only wish they had half the sand of BLM or Antifa, and when the rubber meets the road, they'll buckle again and try to claim it was everyone's fault but theirs.

 Bank on it.

Sometimes there's a part of me that has to turn and go from here.

  Another week's come to an end. I'm not particularly interested in recapping the week's News, but I do think it was a pretty good week. I did good work on Derek Chauvin's guilty verdict Wednesday and the bill to make Washington, D.C., a state Friday. At least I think so, anyway, do check it out. Monday was basically more "cops shoot unarmed black people" and that shit's getting depressing.

 Another harmonica came today, a Fender Blues DeVille in G. Initial testing is positive. It's got a nice, warm tone and a good feel. Plus, the black matte looks cool. I'd recommend it, especially for a starter harp. It's pretty affordable, usually between thirty and forty dollars before shipping. The Fender Blues Deluxe is cheaper, between ten and twenty dollars, and it's a pretty good harp, as well, if your budget's tight. Honestly, I can't tell which is better. I still maintain the Marine Band or Blues Harp from Hohner is top of the line, but it's nice to have options.

 It should be noted these do have plastic combs, so if that's a no-go for you, something to consider. I'm coming around on quality plastic combs myself. I may break down and buy a Special 20 just to see how it matches up. That one the place in Tupelo has is an F, which is a key I don't have. I'm looking at about $300 in harmonicas on my desk and I'll probably never play the bulk of them outside my room.

 As a side note, my income tax refund and my stimulus check came in all at once. It's a decent bit of change I wasn't expecting. I hadn't received one and I figured since my work was all freelance, it just wasn't enough to make the nut. I figure when my buddy I'm writing for did his taxes and reported money paid to me, it tripped a something or other with the Treasury. So, yeah, a nice surprise and I don't feel as bad about buying harmonicas I don't need.

 Okay. I'm going to leave Biden's recognition of the Armenian Genocide for tomorrow. It is a very big deal, though, as it's been something that's been denied by the entire world's governments for over 100 years. Hitler used that as a reason to justify the Holocaust and it's been a sore tooth for the West's relationship with Turkey. That has always been a bone of contention, particularly since Erdogan took power back in 2003. Almost 20 years in the highest office in the country is never a good sign, I don't care who says otherwise.

 Finally, unless something comes up, I got around to playing Hand Of Fate 2 and it's a good time. I like that whole block-counter fight style like in the Batman games and it makes me want to give Shadow of Mordor another shot. I'm still working on Outward and the first two Witcher games, and I've dived back into Dragon Age: Origins to see if I can get more of it down. I have the first Mass Effect downloaded for the same reason, but these goddamn games are so huge. It's amazing how the technology has advanced, and not just from the Pac-Man or Frogger days. Crazy, man.

You know it ain't right to do me like you do.

  I'll go into this in more detail in tomorrow's News, but this is a big deal. Derek Chauvin was found guilty of all three counts against him today. It shocked the shit out of not only him but I think most of us. The jury went into deliberations yesterday and by 2 p.m. it was announced they'd come to a verdict.

 I'm no expert, of course, but I really don't think there's a hard and fast rule about how fast a jury comes back from deliberation and how the verdict will play out. Personally, I wasn't sanguine about things. I watched most of the trial and really couldn't see a way anyone could've come to any verdict besides guilty. 

 This is America, however, and we are as a culture still somewhat in love with authoritarian rule. Racism plays into it, no doubt, but I really think it's all connected. You rarely see a stone racist who isn't down with society being set up in such a way that Certain People are kept in their proper place, even if violently so. This is why Donald Trump won and why there was such outrage on the right for Major League Baseball's decision to pull out of Atlanta for the All-Star Game due to the new and unnecessary voting restrictions.

 There is a serious meltdown going on in the Wingnut World and while it may sound petty, I'm here for it. A more miserable bunch of jackanapes and poltroons I've never seen, and anything that causes them misery is worthy of at least a chuckle. Again, they're horny for authoritarianism and it's good they're disappointed. Hopefully, the stress will give them constipation and days of discomfort.

 I've been thinking about the prosecution presenting its initial case, particularly the first few witnesses. They were at the scene and actively involved in the whole thing. Particularly the first young man, who was the one who thought the twenty George Floyd gave him might be counterfeit. He was made to chase Floyd down, and he broke down on the stand out of guilt for kicking the whole thing in gear. It wasn't his fault but he felt guilty, and I hope out of everyone involved he's got some peace.

 Sentencing will happen come June barring any appeals, I don't know how that works, but that's for another time. Moving on, the weather continues to be great but it's supposed to get cold and rainy before the Sun comes back around. I bought another damn harmonica today, a Fender Blues DeVille in G. It's a sickness. I've been pretty pleased with the Fender Blues harp so far and the DeVille has gotten good marks. Plus, it looks cool, plastic comb notwithstanding. I'm losing that prejudice anyway, as plastic comb technology has come a long way since I last worried about it.

 I do wish I could remember which harmonica I had that came in a red case. Special 20 maybe? I don't remember owning a Special 20, but I can't for the life of me think what else I had back then beyond the Marine Band and the Blues Harp. I'm starting to catch up to my old chops and, in some places, surpassing them. I never really "got" tongue-blocking techniques, but I think I'm getting it. I'm not sure if I'm bending properly, though. I keep reading it's tough to do, but it's one of the techniques I haven't lost. Sounds good enough, anyway.

 While I don't regret it too much, I am sort of bummed at myself for staying away so long. Athens wasn't a blues town and I'm no band leader. Frankly, apart from Neal Pattman, I don't think I ever saw anyone play a harmonica except maybe on a rack, Dylan-style. I didn't hear much harp in New Orleans, either, apart from Grandpa Elliot, but by the time I moved out of the Quarter, I had no interest in live music anyway.

 Still, I probably could've put more effort into any of it and zigged instead of zagged, but if that ain't the story of my life, I don't know what is. My whole travel has been choosing one path or another, and I don't think I ever really chose poorly, but I can't help but wonder. Back in 1998, I was offered a job with a company that built stages and sound systems for outdoor concerts. It'd mean I could've traveled around the country but also require moving to Minnesota. I could've got a free ride to Southern Miss but chose to go to the University of Florida. I could've moved to New Orleans rather than Athens in 1999.

 I don't regret anything but I would sometimes be interested in seeing how things would've turned out otherwise. But there you go.

Who's been talking?

  Well, it's Saturday night, the first one of my 46th year. Twenty years ago, I'd be getting ready to go see some band play if I wasn't in some kitchen getting my daily salt. Either way, I'd probably be stoned and that's about the only thing I miss from those days.

 Anyway. This was a depressing week. Too many shootings, either by the police or just some asshole who's decided he's got the right to decide who lives and who dies. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were all about some shooting, be it the cops in Minneapolis or the guy in Indianapolis. It's depressing as shit, even more so knowing that probably nothing significant will change.

 I've talked about gun violence all week and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I will reiterate that I really don't give a shit about your guns or, for that matter, what you think the Second Amendment actually means. Knock your damn fool self out, for all I care. Just know this: if you're not someone I know well enough to know that you know what you're doing with something that's good for nothing but killing, I feel it well within my right to treat you like the next mass shooter should you decide you simply cannot hit the local Wal-Mart without being loaded for bear. Deal.

 It's come and gone, but I really didn't touch on the whole "America First Caucus" Marjorie Taylor Greene and Paul Gosar tried to pull off. I am surprised that it didn't last a week, for what that's worth, though I never did figure out what "Anglo-Saxon political traditions" meant, seeing as how the whole "Anglo-Saxon" thing was a non-starter after 1066. I know it was a badly disguised "white power" to-do, sure, and probably dumb as a bucket of shit considering the progenitors. 

 I think if nothing else, it might behoove Nancy Pelosi to give Greene something useful to do with her time. Put her on a low-grade committee that doesn't actually mean anything. She could be naming post officers or something like that.

 Moving on, I think I've bought all the harmonicas I'm going to need for a while. Key-wise, all I lack is a B and an F in major keys. I might, might, buy an F and a B-flat, but I wouldn't count on it. It's past time to actually try to get back to getting better-than-decent on them, I reckon. Plus, I have that chromatic to figure out. I got that Rocket Low C and thought I meant to get a Low G as Junior Wells suggested. Them things are expensive as hell, though. Lee Oskar doesn't make a Low G and Junior preferred Lee Oskars, so who knows. Harmonica talk, always a winner.

 Okay, I don't know what else. Something about this week, I don't know, but I've been kind of out of it. I can live with it, though. Last week, I got up every morning by 8 a.m. and hit the gym, while this week I laid around until noon or so. Why, I couldn't tell you, except I've been taking advantage of the new fiber optic and trying more of the games with huge downloads. The Witcher 2 is actually a pretty good game and not as dense as 3, though it takes a minute to get used to not being able to jump.

 And that's that, kids.

Yeah, I can't think of a song lyric to put here. Go listen to Paul Butterfield.

 I've been dicking around playing The Witcher 2 all evening and let time slip up on me. It's twenty till midnight and my head's still empty. I doubt I'll knock out the word count before I run out of time, but what the hell.

 Though I've owned all three Witcher games for a couple years I've never put much time into them. I got the first two for less than ten bucks on a GOG sale and snagged the third one for about twenty bucks. They're pretty decent games but they're so damn deep, so much to get into. They're sort of like the Dragon Age or Mass Effect games in that way. Fun but I feel like I have to block out a couple of days just to get started on them.

 For whatever reason, I've had a helluva time of getting on Steam. It keeps saying there have been too many failed attempts to log in, but there shouldn't be anyone but me. After it not working all evening, it's working now. Go figure. I can only guess it has something with us getting the fiber optic.

 Also, we got fiber optic. I don't know if I've gone into this, but they finally got it all hooked up the week before last. We were supposed to get it before the end of last year but that was before COVID sat on everyone's faces and farted. Anyhow, we have it now and we're up to the same speed I had in New Orleans. So nice to rejoin the 21st century at least in one way.

 Speaking of which, I saw the Therapist today. It's been a fairly chill couple of months since the last time I saw her and, frankly, nothing's been weighing too heavy on my mind. So that means it was a "let Matt rant about politics" type of session. Specifically, raging about the shit Jackson has been dealing with since the Big Freeze. Her son lives there and for four weeks he'd have to go somewhere every morning to take a shower. And it's still not really fixed.

 Of course, the state government would rather spend its time banning trans kids from high school, though that's not a problem anywhere, or try to keep people from voting. As it is, state law has it if someone catches a charge on a number of minor felonies like bad checks or shoplifting, they lose the right to vote. Ten percent of the population can't vote because of that and, of course, most of them are Black.

 I really don't understand why Roger Whitaker's taken a hard Trump turn as of late. He's always been solidly right-wing, but he's gone wacky lately. He backed Trump's claim of a stolen election and now he's on the anti-voting team. His numbers must look like hell. Tate Reeves makes more sense. I really think he's gearing up for a presidential run in 2024 or 2028 and he's obviously decided being an obnoxious dick is the way to go. I don't know why, it's done Ted Cruz no good.

 I've topped five hundred words and it's five past midnight. I reckon that's close enough for jazz. I do want to mention my harmonicas. My harmonica collection is growing, I have two more coming Thursday, and at least two more down the line. All are different keys or different tunings, mostly in G or C. It's getting a little silly, honestly. I'm trying different brands beyond the Hohner Marine Bands or Blues Harps, like Easttop or Fender Blues.

 For what it's worth, I highly recommend the Easttop. It's cheaper than Hohners or Lee Oskars yet still a well-made harmonica. The Fender Blues is pretty solid, as well, though the Easttop gets the nod. I've got a pretty good set if I wanted to play out, so, something to consider there.

 But harmonicas are cool, so it's okay.

Take a little trip with me.

  It's the first of April. I never have cared for April Fool's Day mainly because most folks are neither all that funny nor all that clever. I've only seen a couple of April Fool's tweets today and they've been blatantly obvious. I guess living in the bizarre reality that has been the last four years has sapped most people's tolerance for bullshit.

 The Derek Chauvin case is going into its fourth day. Here's a pretty good Twitter feed called Unicorn Riot that's been following the trial. The defense's strategy seems to be not only painting George Floyd as a danger but also that the cops were being threatened by the cops. It's going to be interesting to see what the defense brings because the prosecution is eating them up. A former supervisor of Chauvin has said he went too far.

 Another... interesting take on it is how guilty the witnesses all seem to feel over it, as if they're blaming themselves for Floyd's death. Particularly the young man who originally thought he passed a fake twenty. He was hard to listen to, bless his heart, and it goes a long way in explaining why this sort of thing keeps happening, why police brutality is so commonplace.

 You'll see these arguments online where people who support police brutality and inevitably someone will ask them, "Well, what if it happens to you or someone you love?" Once they get over the claim they'd never do something like that, the pro folks always say something along the line of, "Well, I/they probably deserve it." Think about that. Our culture has this worship of authority so ingrained that we think we deserve to have punitive measures used against us whenever said authority deems it necessary. 

 That's something about our culture we maybe should think about. It doesn't remove or explain away the racial aspect of police brutality or the other aspects of White Supremecy that, but I definitely think it has a structural component to this all-American comment of daily life. Same thing with yet another mass shooting. We for some reason think we deserve like this or, at least, it's a reasonable sacrifice. It should also be noted that the same people who think the cops are justified with what they do are the same ones who lose their shit when they get a ticket for parking in a handicapped spot. Go figure.

 Moving on, we've all had to consider Matt Gaetz's "oh-face" way too much this week. It's come out that he's given to show nude pictures and videos of his sexual conquests to others, even fellow Congress critters while on the floor of the House of Representatives. That's just creepy and gross. I mean, that'd be creepy and gross if he was 21, but for a member of the U.S. legislative body, it's almost beyond the pale. Even if the sexual trafficking of minors charge is bogus, he ought to be bounced just for that. For cryin' out loud, man, try not to act so much like the privileged frat boy douchebag you so obviously are.

 And that's about that. It's been cold but an otherwise lovely day and we finally got high-speed fiber-optic internet. It is nice to rejoin the 21st century. I've been buying more harmonicas, including a PowerDraw harp that I'm extremely looking forward to messing with. Maybe after my birthday, I'll buy myself one of these Lucky 13 harps that are tuned for bass playing.

 I'm having a lot of fun relearning harmonica and guitar. Maybe the best thing about learning or relearning anything - from a musical instrument to a sport to something like painting - is when a hurdle or a block that's been hanging you up and frustrating your progress just melts away. You figure it out and it becomes second nature. It's like discovering you have a super power.

All-night laundromat blues.

 Well, I did it again. I nodded off reading after supper and woke up after midnight with not one word written. This is the second time this has happened, the second time this month as a matter of fact. It's always on Gibberish days when, admittedly, had I something I felt needed pontificating on, it would already have been written.

 But no, nothing was coming today and, to be quite frank, nothing's here now. We're getting our weekly flood outside but that's almost become boring. I need a shower and as soon I wake up fully, I'll take it. For the nonce, I'll babble on until I catch word count.

 I was doing pretty good today, too. Woke up and hit the gym instead of waiting until the afternoon when I probably would have slept through it. Otis and I took a lovely early afternoon constitutional. I need to do something to change my sluggish mood, and I guess the only thing I can do at this point is to take advantage of the nice weather. The Psych Doc said I need to spend more time outside anyway.

 Anyway. I'm spending too much money on harmonicas, which is actually a sentence I have written before. I maybe shouldn't have bought that Blues Harp, especially since it was in A. That's an okay key, but not as useful as C. Played in second position, it works for songs in D, but that's not quite as useful. Of course, I'm not going to be playing with anyone soon but it's the principle of the thing.

 I've got a three-pack Hoodoo Hohner Blues Harmonica set that was super cheap. Apparently they're not great, but I just want something to blow on. The video I just got through makes them look really bad. Ah, well. The case looks nice. The Bluesband is decent for less than $10, but the fact is you get what you pay for. I may break down and just buy a Marine Band, but the East top makes a pretty decent affordable one. Maybe I'll wait and I buy myself one or two for my birthday. That's an idea. I got that Blues Man in A, maybe buy a Marine Band in C, and perhaps a Fender or a Lee Oskar in G. I've never played one of those.

 Boy, this is riveting stuff, but this is about as interesting as my thought process got today. One of Florida's dirtbag U.S. Representatives, the odious Matt Gaetz, went from announcing he'd take a job with Newsmax rather than run for re-election to being accused of sex with an underage girl. At least one, maybe more and maybe Tucker Carlson is involved.

 And for the record, I only call it "sex with an underage person" for legal reasons. It's rape. Sex with a minor is rape, especially if you're a 38-year-old man. There are allowances for 18-year-olds having sex with 17-year-olds that fall into a gray territory if one wanted to be an asshole but that's neither here nor there. This is not that situation.

 In any event, I am not terribly interested in digging into that dude's trash. He's a nasty piece of work and has shown he's something of a douchebag a number of times before all this came to light. Politics and the media is my beat but this sort of thing is... distasteful. I cannot for the life of me understand why people, mostly dudes, engage in this sort of behavior. Even among us plebes, big generation gaps like that never really work, do they? I remember a friend back in Athens who was pushing 40 and dating a 22-year-old. Sweet girl and he was a nice dude, but it was a fiery relationship, to be generous. Both were much happier after they split up. Another similar situation, every time I saw him away from her - and he worked at a CD store, so I saw him a good bit - he looked wore plumb down because they were always scrappin'.

 I'm not going to lie. In my early thirties, I went out once or twice with a young woman in her early twenties. It never lasted, though, for one reason or another. Usually because I was too weird for them after the initial blush or because - and I don't want to be insulting here - she just acted too young. People need to date close to their own age until their mid-thirties and then stick with the seven-year rule. That's half your age plus seven is the lower limit. For example, I'll be 46 next month so my lower limit would be 30. That's still a pretty big stretch, come to think about it.

 It doesn't matter, anyway, because I ain't dating anymore. I don't know if that's the reason I'm not interested in sex scandals - I was going to bring this back around somehow - because I've never been interested in sex scandals. Of course, this wouldn't be a sex scandal so much as a rape scandal, which makes it even more distasteful. But it will be news for the next couple of days.

 And that's word count so I'll be hitting the showers.

I can't come up with anything clever and I'm too lazy to work on it.

  So the chromatic harmonica that got lost in the mail showed up today. What the hell, I got something free to play with. It was a mistake, anyway, as it only has ten holes when it's supposed to have twelve.

 Anyway, let's knock out the news. We stayed close to home this week, concentrating on Mississippi's legislators spending more time trying to usher in a stinker of a tax cut plan and banning trans students from high school girls' athletics. And though it's apparently getting better, Monday was as much a look at the absence of media coverage of Jackson's water problems as it is actual coverage of Jackson's water problems.

 Man, my internet connection is slipping in and out. This is going to be a pain in the ass. I don't know why it's doing it or what's causing the issue, and I'd almost rather it just cut out completely rather than do this on-off bullshit.

 Okay, I've lost all train of thought here. I am not, not, writing about "cancel culture" because I honest-to-God don't care anymore. "Cancel" is all, I don't care anymore. They - whoever "they" are - won't be coming into my house and taking my Warner Brothers Loony Tunes collections. If so, I have guns. I never read Dr. Seuss or had a Mr. Potato Head, and everyone is misunderstanding the whole "Muppet Show" situation.

 This is why being a country music fan before anything else makes life a little bit easier. Way before my politics took its hard left turn, I knew Hank Williams Jr. is a bit of a shitass. I understand perfectly why the Seuss people wanted to pull those books or why "The Simpsons" did whatever they did with the Apu character. I'm just tired of honkies think this is more important than a state capital going without water for nearly a month or a whole party going out of its way to screw over voters.

 I don't know what else. I've talked all I can about XCOM 2 and I'll probably spend a bit more time with Star Control: Origins and Outward before the weekend's over. I'm lazy. Not gloomy or depressed or even angry, just lazy and I really don't feel like I have much to look forward to. I don't mean that in a bad way, either, if that makes sense. Just one day after another and that's... okay?

 I mean, I'm having fun with my harps and my guitar and my accordion. I'm enjoying my books and playing the same three or four computer games. I've developed something of an obsession with Steve Marriott which will keep me busy for a couple of days. I've enjoyed this collection of "Sherlock Holmes meets Occult Detectives" short stories but I think I'll move on to something else. Maybe jump back into Many-Worlds books.

 So I guess that's about it. I just need to fill out the word count at this point. I may go back to sleep or I might mess around with a game, I don't know. I ought to go ahead and finish XCOM2.

If I had a bead on what I need to make the moment last I just might try I just might try. I just might try.

  Anyone who's spent any time on Twitter knows that every other day or so, one person's tweet blows up beyond what they expected. The reason it blows up is usually because it lays out some trite "common sense wisdom" from someone who doesn't really need to go there and isn't bringing anything useful to the discussion. Half of Twitter tells them what kind of damnfool peckerhead they are while the other half argues for the same trite horseshit. Something about "not being the star of Twitter" goes in here but I forget how it goes.

 Anyhow, yesterday the big to-do was some woman who works for the NFL Network saying only hard-work and grind will bring success, she appreciates the time she worked for around 16 grand a year and has no time for those who won't put in the effort. What she neglected to add is that she's the heiress to some rich chili concern out of Texas, and was able to live at one of the three homes her parents owned while grinding it out at poverty wages. You never hear that part of the story yet it always comes up, and generally, the right-on's are one dropped spinning play away from bankruptcy at the best.

 Before we get too deep into this, I should note that I am extremely lazy. I might be the laziest person in Northeast Mississippi, which is saying something. I come by my laziness honestly. My momma was lazy and her daddy was lazy. Laziness is my heritage. When I'm on the job, I put in the work expected for the compensation promised. But if I ain't getting paid, I'm not going to bust my ass. You can hustle your way to the grave, I'd rather sit on my porch and pick my guitar while getting stoned.

 This has influenced my life. I busted my ass trying to "make it" as some sort of a journalist until around 27 or so, when I realized I was really no better off in the decade-plus of trying and was probably in worse shape. Maybe it was a lack of talent and skill. Maybe it was a lack of effort and gumption. Maybe it was bad luck, but whatever it was, the end result was killing me while breaking my heart.

 Part of the problem was that it's goddamn near impossible to make it as a freelancer unless someone else pays the bills until the ship comes in. This really didn't settle in until I read Hunter Thompson's first book of letters, The Proud Highway. Basically, he had to scrimp, save, borrow, and steal when he wasn't living off his wife, and this went on until basically, he got a big check for Where The Buffalo Roam. This was a double-edged sword because he became too famous to do his type of journalism. He's said he could've either gone back to being poor and hungry or just give in and play the role, and we all know how that turned out.

 I digress. Reading that, however, lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. Unfortunately, it came too late to do anything about the absolute burnout I had from trying to make a living as a freelancer while having to hold down kitchen and bar jobs just to be able to eat, much less afford what I needed to do the job. I wasn't having any fun and I see no point in not having fun. It broke my heart when I realized all this, and the pain was only topped by the deaths of my father and maternal grandmother.

 Now, I said all that to say all this. Work and grind are fine and there is something to paying your dues in any business. But unpaid internships, especially, are bullshit and you are due proper compensation for your labor. You should have the right to tell anyone who wants you to work for "exposure" to piss off because anyone who expects you to work for free doesn't have your best interests at heart. They will screw you over, and as likely as not, people arguing for "the grind" have someone else paying the bills.

 Okay, so much for all that. The situation in Jackson is finally getting more attention, though I'm still a bit stunned none of the lefty alt-news websites like Mother Jones or Alternet are doing anything about it. Common Dreams does have a nice piece on the situation published today, so do check it out.

 I still haven't got my chromatic harmonica. I went ahead and ordered another one off of eBay from a place called dreamharmonica. Another cheap one, of course, but the first one was a 10-hole and 12-hole or better harps are the ones to get, apparently. And, yes, I would rather Buy American but that wasn't in the cards.

 I started a nifty book. It's another short-story collection of people writing Sherlock Holmes fanfiction but the twist is the authors are teaming the Great Detective with Occult Detectives. Some are classic characters, like John Silence, while some are original creations. The first story has Mary Marston, the future Mrs. John Watson, as Holmes' partner. The really nice thing is they're portraying Holmes as someone who knows he doesn't get magic but doesn't shut down completely when faced with it because of logic or some such nonsense. There was a Doctor Who book with that premise and it always irritated me. It was especially irritating because another Doctor Who book had the Fourth Doctor team up with Arthur Conan Doyle in the Watson role. Those Doctor Who books between the end of the series and the Fox TV movie really weren't that good, generally.

 All right then.

That's a cold shot, baby. Yeah, that's a drag.

  We're back to Saturday and the last remnants of Winter Storm Uri have left nothing but the realization far too many cities' infrastructures aren't up to snuff. In Jackson, Mississippi, and all over Texas people are still without water, power, and sometimes both. Some people are going on two weeks without potable water. Imagine that. Can't drink anything or boil anything, but you also can't brush your teeth or flush the toilet. People are doing the Good Lord's work helping out but this should serve as a fierce wake-up call that the way things on the most basic level are simply not cutting the mustard.

 This isn't a question of politics, really, or how much government should or shouldn't be involved in daily life. When things like this storm - or Katrina or the tornadoes that tore up Nashville several years ago - happen, that's what state and local government are for, if nothing else. I don't want to dig too deep into the CPAC silliness going on or give my credence to shit Bill Maher thinks is worth talking about, but it's ridiculous that they still think "cancel culture" is the biggest worry facing the public. I'm pretty sure the folks in Clinton or Houston aren't at all concerned with whether or not people are nice to Bret Stephens.

 Anyhow. The News this week was fairly useful, I think, and I did what I like doing. Monday we looked at some of the ridiculous goddamn power bills hitting folks in Texas as well as Trump's taxes being fair game. Wednesday and Friday took on Biden's appointees, Mississippi's dumbass tax ideas, and more examples of how way too many of us have no idea how government works. I wish I could figure out a way to spread it around more that didn't cut a bad stroke with me. There's only so much linking-to-Twitter-or-Tumblr one can do.

 The tremolo harmonica I ordered late last week came today. I'm still waiting on the chromatic harp, and frankly, that's the one I'm looking forward to most. I just here recently figured out I didn't have to splurge for a $150 sho'nuff Hohner harp when I could spend twenty bucks on a cheap one to dick around with. That's a little irritating, but what can you do. I imagine it's being held up due to a combination of the Big Freeze, COVID, and the residual attempts by the Trump Administration to trash the postal service, but I ordered the tremolo harp five days after I ordered the chromatic harp.

 It's a whole new ballgame, and that's something neat. Basically, a tremolo has access to all the notes you can get on a regular old diatonic without having to bend notes. From what I can tell, it's rarely if ever used in blues. However, it's probably the most popular type of harmonica for the rest of the world when it comes to folk music. Apparently, they're really a big deal in South Asia. Different holes are drawn or blown for different notes, but only for that note. Like, you got one hole that will only draw a C while the one diagonal to it blows a G. That's probably not right, by the way.

 Notes can't be bent on tremolo harps and the breathing required is a different game. Anyway, it's nice to have something new to mess around with. I also dug out my cheap accordion from out of the basement. I'm not sure why I'm getting weird about the harp again, apart from it being something to do when I otherwise have very few hobbies. I have no illusions about playing out even if I wanted to.

 When I was in Gainesville, I fell in love with the harmonica and, specifically, Junior Wells and Rice Miller, aka Sonny Boy Williamson II. Florida's a big blues state, and I got to do a lot of playing with folks. I had a little tackle box full of harps of different keys and makes, mostly Hohners like a Marine Band or Special Twenty. I played with blues bands - white guy blues bands, of course - and classic rock bands, and even had a Shure Green Bullet microphone for a while.

 That all changed in Athens, though. I didn't have the mic anymore and most of my harps were blown out. In any event, Athens really isn't a blues town at all. Neal Pattman lived there before he died, but the closest that place got to anything blues-like was jam-band blues. No thanks, even if I could. So, I concentrated on guitar and bass, playing in a few country and cowpunk bands. When I moved to New Orleans, I did some fill-in gigs with R&B and Cajun bands, but before too long I was just sick and tired of bar life. I fiddled around with the accordion for a bit, but that is a hard nut to crack so I couldn't get into it. Maybe now that I've got the time.

Like I said, I have absolutely no desire to play music with other people. With the axes I'm using - harp, guitar, accordion - I don't have to. Bass playing - the kind I like anyway - sort of requires a band of some type. You can't play in the pocket if there's no pocket to play in, that's just common sense. Believe you me, playing music with people is a trip unlike any other and if you ever get the chance to do it, please do so. I highly recommend it. You don't even have to be good, long as you know two chords.

 But this is just something to do. A hobby that's something other than playing video games, writing stuff no one will read, and getting cross-eyed about politics and the media. Just something to have a little fun and fill the hours. I wouldn't even call it "making music." My brother still makes music, far as I know, and he hasn't had anything to do with a band for years. He composes and records stuff. How he does it, I don't know but I do know he does it and it fills his soul.

 It's just fun to figure out "Crazy Arms" on guitar or working my way around the ol' tin sandwich. That's what it's all about. Whenever my life went south it's because I was doing something other than trying to have fun. It doesn't take much, thankfully, and I'm a Lazy Guy.

 Anyhow, I think I've written about all I can on that topic. I'm already looking up Slobberbone songs on YouTube to post on Twitter. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Sometimes I give up on love, but sometimes I dream.

  Yeah, another day where I really don't have a whole lot going on. So we'll just fill up the white space until we reach word count. I'm not sure why I can't shake this dragging feeling. I know it's Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I've got plenty of sunlight. Who knows. The worst part about knowing you have chronic depression is also the best part. You know where the feeling's coming from just as you know there's really nothing you can do about it.

 I've been very discouraged about the writing thing lately. The fiction stuff seems to have dried up and I can't get any new Actual Paying Work. To be fair, I'm not really trying on the latter. This has been like pulling teeth for a couple weeks. The News has been going well, but that's easy to do.

 What's getting to me, though, is I'm going on a year-and-a-half of this and almost no feedback. I really don't believe the hits I get here anything more than web crawlers, and while it's nice to get a bit of acknowledgment when stuff's linked to Twitter, I know it's just people being supportive. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, and I appreciate it. But it is what it is, and I ain't going to bullshit myself.

 Someone suggested I do a Substack, which I almost took as an insult. I can't get any communication when I offer it for free, who in the hell would pay for that nonsense. I don't know. I guess I'm just dealing with a bad bout of the blues exacerbated because I've no way to get my head bad and step outside it. That and having no one to talk to, not really, except for the two head shrinkers once a month. And Momma, I suppose, but I don't like getting deep with her. She either looks for solutions, which she's awful at, or sees places where (she thinks) she messed up, which just isn't helpful at all.

 I'm not getting much joy out of anything right now. It's kind of a bummer because I know all I can do is just ride the bastard out. I suppose it's a benefit that I don't have any demands on my time these days. These were the times when I'd break down and cry before going into work, being thankful everyone was used to me coming in stoned. My eyes were always red.

 Maybe it's because I've been reading a bit of philosophy here lately. Nothing specific, just a fairly enjoyable intro-type book to brush up on some things. Like every now and then, I have to reeducate myself on logic because the concept is so used and abused by damn near everyone as of late. Gene Roddenberry probably had a lot to answer for in the Great Beyond.

 Beyond that, I don't know. I've been buying more stuff from eBay, something I hadn't done in years. I came across chromatic harps cheap, so I bought one of those and a tremolo harp. I never could talk myself into getting top-shelf versions of either, as a good one costs over a hundred bucks. Shit, I just Googled up one that was 17 grand. Someone needs their ass beat over that. My brother once noted that asshole yuppies spending too much money on guitars they rarely play meant the tools of his trade were priced out of his range. I never made a living blowing the harp, but that damn sure goes double for harmonicas. A straight-up Marine Band will run you at least 50 bucks. Makes me crazy to think that Junior Wells once went to court for stealing a really good one that was $1.50.

 Harmonicas are great, though. Better than guitars, I don't care what anyone says. I don't know you'd write a song using a harmonica, but there you go. Not just blues or rock, either. Country harp is great. Charlie McCoy, Mickey Raphael, Don Brown, Roger Crabtree, and my friend Rob Peck.  For the record, what he didn't teach me about harp wasn't much. Everything I've learned since has been building on that. I hope he's doing well.

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

 After yesterday's big storms, it has cleared out and gotten pretty cool hereabouts. Beautiful weather, though. I've said it before about New Orleans, but Fall in Northeast Mississippi is when it shines, as well. What Daddy would call "football playing weather".

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

 I'm just going to try to get some stuff down. The times are still interesting and the days are still in the Heavy Weird stage with no end in sight.