Maybe I make myself out to be a victim too much. Could be. I think people have OD'd on the whole "it's not my fault that I spilled the coffee on myself....it was too hot!" approach. In the same breath, I hate Verizon wireless and the mockery they have made of my obviously, previously pristine existence.
I went out busking last Friday for about 5 hours, by far the longest sitting (standing, more accurately) I've ever attempted. My voice got tender around the three-hour mark, prompting me to be extra careful which resulted in an artistic epiphany wherein I found the perfect, healthy amount of support that my voice needed within the acoustically-depraved 23rd Street Station. I encountered tons of amazing people while I was out, debuted my new song, "Bitten By a Brown Recluse," and managed to barely repeat any material at all. Oh, and I made mad green stamps.
There were many more interesting stories to tell of this epic night of anti-social, pro-free-music antics. But I've forgotten them. Because fucking Verizon wireless' DSL connection in my apartment went dead for the umpteenth time after it took a month for them to get off their asses and connect two wires together and install the thing in the first place. Thus, this blog took over a week to be published and my memories have faded into the mercurial sands of time, never to be retraced.
Thanks a bundle, V. Now millions of people will never be able to know what social and musical barriers were climactically broken and what performance hurdles were overcome and what artistic milestones and zeniths reached.
Pitooey!
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