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Get off my LAWN! "Grumpy Old Farts"

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My mother was a Bozo-ette in high school.
Mine, too. We always rib her about that.
It seems that Mingus couldn’t read fast enough early in his career and it hindered him joining a youth orchestra, leaving him feeling ostracized from classical musicians. I wonder if not reading well at the time helped him to be a better player.
It, more than likely, made him a more famous musician.
 
It seems that Mingus couldn’t read fast enough early in his career and it hindered him joining a youth orchestra, leaving him feeling ostracized from classical musicians. I wonder if not reading well at the time helped him to be a better player.

Since he famously made a career out of being the "underdog", yeah, probably.

I saw him once, in a small club. He didn't use an amp and he didn't need one at all. That's still my benchmark for great bass tone and great bass playing.
 
Yeah, but in those cases, isn't it usually their own? :woot:

[nearly] Always.

Solzhenitsyn reports "if you're not getting [----ed] don't lie down and ask for it" as distilled wisdom from the inhabitants of the gulag.
 
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Our daughter and her then-boyfriend-now-husband boarded a Quantas jet on St. Patrick’s Day, 2005...headed toward a new life together in Australia.
They stayed for 11 of the next 12 years.
My Bride and I made that trip 6 times.
As ‘Irish’ as things are there, I felt right at home!

I’m always touched by Aussie history and culture.

If you see a poppie today, don’t pick it, but do pause and reflect.

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It’s fall in Oz, six months ahead of the bleak days of when battles are commemorated in November in North America.

In Flanders Fields

John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

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In those crazy, hopped-up 80s when priorities were apparently shifting a Canadian journalist named Gwynne Dyer produced a television series simply titled, "War". The episode titled "Anybody's Son Will Do" still stands clear in my mind as one who looked around and said, "let's create music".
 
In those crazy, hopped-up 80s when priorities were apparently shifting a Canadian journalist named Gwynne Dyer produced a television series simply titled, "War". The episode titled "Anybody's Son Will Do" still stands clear in my mind as one who looked around and said, "let's create music".

Gwynne Dyer is an old school journalist that brings a historical bend to his work. Still working, based in the UK.

The commentary on that Paris Island, SC training episode reminds me of The Guess Who song, Friends Of Mine....

In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow
Between the crosses row on row
To mark the dead

To Flanders Fields, the hippies go
To smoke the poppies there below
And feed their heads

And they're all friends of mine....
 
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A life lesson and a million to one shot.





The audio isn't clear on this video. Please allow me to interject.
Seahag : Sharky , get your darn head out of that poor elephants butt.
Me : Murmph , murmph , murmph.
Seahag : I can't understand a thing you're saying.
Me : Murmph murmph.
Seahag : Quit mumbling and get your head out of there.
Me : murmph murmph
Elephant : Poot
Seahag : now , go up and apologize the that poor elephant.
Me : Gack gag barf..........Yes dear.

I remember it like it was yesterday.
 
A mechanical marvel from the 1920’s. They sure knew how to tinker back then. This one has been adapted for midi.


Beans, that truly is amazing. Analog too. That must have taken quite a brain and many hours of blood, sweat, and tears. But the effort paid off. Very nice music. And none of the band every gets too loud or drunk! :laugh:
 
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