Doo wop and Cinco de Mayo

I have to confess that I never learned how to drive a stick.  The family car was an automatic, and there it was.  At some point I wanted to feel more manly and had a friend try to teach me the stick, but it was hard, and I had to think what does this add to the driving experience and I couldn't come up with anything.

Barr did the redacting.  Of course there are good reasons for redacting some of the contents but it makes me uneasy to think that the redacting is done by a Trump toady who is only trying to please and protect his master.


Judy and Joni are fine but my big three women musicians are Emmylou, Lucinda Williams, and Nanci Griffith.  My CD collection is roughly half male and half female, and generally I try to alternate them when they go into the computer.  I didn't remember Tragedy but when I played it on youtube it came back to me. Summer nights at the beginning of high school came to me, making that circuit 55th to Kedzie, Kedzie to 59th, 59th to Homan and then back again over and over, holding onto my red transistor radio and listening to Dick Biondi playing those doo wop songs that were so popular then and seemed to trail behind me in the soft summer air.

But I reckon Old Dog was only ten that song came out, what would he know then of the great tragedy of teen breakups?  Well he is a deep man, perhaps he will reveal after he gives it some thought.


I wonder if his grand plans concern the 3d printer and that CAM machine.  I miss the seminars that consisted mostly of his latest invention.


So here's a nice little Chicago story.  I took advantage of the rare event of actual spring weather yesterday afternoon to walk down the riverwalk to Wolf Point and then over to Grand Avenue up to State.  Seems like I heard a lot of music in the distance as I passed, but I didn't pay it any special mind.  Heading back to the homestead I passed by the upscale Mexican restaurant by State and Illinois and it was blasting, just blasting, music.  The owner of Snickers bar, who I know a little, was standing in the doorway and jokingly I asked why didn't he tell them to turn it down, and he said well, it's Cinco de Mayo.  Scarce had he said the words when a couple of senoritas who had clearly been sampling crevezas or margaritas turned the corner and hearing the phrase began shouting it out.  "Cinco de Mayo!  Cinco de Mayo!  The windows of the bar were open, and the crowd inside took up the call "Cinco de Mayo!" and we gringos on the sidewalk smiled and walked on.  A good time was had by all.