my front porch. I'll never get into the cementing hall of fame that's for sure. It's a mediocre job that I did, but since I can't find anyone to fix anything around here, I'm forced to do it myself. It's only temporary anyway, to get us through the ice and snow this year.  Rick said he was gonna fix the porch for me and he even brought some dude who honestly looked like he just arrived on a freight train, over to check out the job. I think it was too hard because he didn't mention it again. I haven't heard from Rick for a couple of weeks now. Maybe he's working on getting transport (ie a car).

I don't know man, I'm worn out from the cementing. This stuff dries fast so you have to work quickly. I stopped after a while. It was never gonna be as good as I wanted it to, but it will do.

Today will be ultra warm for a November. It's supposeId to get to 75 deg F. That's almost back to summer, but then it will rain tomorrow they say.

 
I'm not going to talk about politics today, suffice to say that elections are held to give the illusion that people are living in a Democracy. Totally demoralized people go the polls with the expectation that their vote actually counts, when the real seat of power largely controls both sides. People who know will know what I'm talking about, everyone else can catch up. 

I've got just under three weeks to put together some new material for this upcoming November session. Yesterday I took the 'ol Jazzmaster to my guitar tech guy so he can put it back into shape. Then there's the audio cables that go upstairs. A few of them don't seem to be working and it's a such jumble of cables that I don't wanna go near it actually. It works good enough I think, when you think that not too long ago bands had only 4 or 8 tracks to work with. I've got sixteen, give or take a couple.

I don't have an engineer sitting up there to check the levels, but it's usually ok apart from the keyboards which wildly fluctuate depending on the day.

Gary was texting me last night in some kind of panic, but I was out and my phone was off. He thinks the Bolsheviks are going to put guys like him into an internment camp.  Guys like him? Bass players? It was weird, but I think I calmed him down enough to not run away to......well, there's nowhere to go. 

That bloody cementing has given me a slight headache, but as yet I have not had my second breakfast so maybe that's the cure. This afternoon I can watch the cement dry and go through all the new stuff that I want the band to play. 

Yes kids, it's just another day in the life of a very obscure singer/songwriter and 

resident anarchist (at my dentist),  who is so far outside of the mainstream that I may as well be on another planet. 

Perhaps I am? 

Good Day.