Jesus, Corwood, that sucks.

I'm pissed now, but it will pass. What a shitty band leader, though!

This might sound like sour grapes, but my wife would confirm that I really don't care much for his songs, which are all bland power-pop (and, seriously, his lyrics dropped into the worst possible category occasionally: "I hear stories of destruction and rumors of war/ every day is crazier than the day before." Really? Are destruction and war bad for children and other living things, too?). I was mainly playing in the band as a favor to a mutual friend, and planning to quit after this weekend. Which is the salient point: I was waiting until AFTER the big gig and LONG BEFORE the next show in late April to quit, because a) I have some fucking sense of propriety and b) I wanted to play SXSW, dammit.

That sucks!

That is indeed of the suck. And now you don't get a free wristband either, eh?

Nope, I get nothing. Except bitterness. Made worse by the fact that I felt like I was slumming in that band in the first place. Now I feel like the pale shadow of Robert Quine dismissed by the pale shadow of Matthew Sweet.

Egad, Corwood.

Dear Corwood,

You are the rockingest. That guy sucks doggy doo.

LOVE, me (with lurkers support me in email approval by everyone who counts).

Thank you, everyone. That includes the lurkers.

You are the rockingest. That guy sucks doggy doo.

Until I read them, I had no idea that these would be the words I have been longing to hear. Now, of course, I know this and revel in them. Thank you.

go hug and kiss that beautiful kid of yours (and the loverly wife too, while you are at it). The kind words you had for me last spring are coming back at you in the sweet girly words I know and love.

doggy doo. My mom would be so proud.

I'm supporting you publicly, my friend. But I also sent you an email with a story about some other music weasels.

Didn't manage to get medical clearance until late this afternoon, but I now have a note from my doctor saying I can get paid again. If I could have made it until Thursday it would have been four full months on disability -- but I'm glad I'm going back tomorrow.

David, thanks for the Steely Dan link last week. I actually enjoyed this part more than what you quoted:

S is for Searching for Steely Dan, a novel about a disillusioned writer who gets dumped by his wife and begins a hopeless search for Steely Dan. How the hell could I possibly accentuate both the implicit and explicit comedy of that premise?

(For non-Dan/Burroughs fans the band took its name from a dildo in Naked Lunch.)

As for the part about the Walter Becker video game proposal, it was funny (if rather inside humor), but I got a kick out of it mostly because I read your post right after reading about this game. Don't remember what I was looking for when I found that guy's blog, but I thought Corwood would get a kick out of the game. Or if Emmett's a budding geetar player it's a birthday present waiting to happen.

Should go to bed, after all it is a work night!