I purposefully did not post a clip of the movie “Shaft,” (I thought it sorta stunk), because I would prefer that you to focus on the music without the distraction of a movie trailer.

Listen closely to the beginning, because it amounts to a Master Class on the use of a wah-wah pedal (they have various names these days) by a guitar player. Young guitar peeps staring at an array of fancy pedals would be well advised to pay attention to this song, because that’s how you work a pedal. Next, listen closely to the drummer who uses only hi-hat cymbals (i.e. the ones you play with your foot) to work with the guitar player, proving that sometimes less is more. Pure magic.

Then, pay attention to everything else that is going on instrumentally in the song. It is a farookin’ work of art. The song earned Isaac Hayes an Oscar for Best Original Song. Well deserved, I’d say. I just wish the guitar player and the drummer could have gotten their very own awards.

Here’s proof that corrupt, rat bastard congresscreeps are not limited to the democrat party. This POS should be sent packing in November.

I’ve had about enough of this shit.

Progressives, the champions of maintaining a pristine environment.

Horseshit.

CBS reported the size of crowd at yesterday’s rally in Washington organized by Glenn Beck to be 87,000.

Are you going to believe CBS, or your eyes?

A month or so ago, a couple of the Usual Suspects (The Original Bill and Sinister Linda) asked if we would be interested in seeing Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero (a/k/a “Connie Francis”) in concert, as she would be appearing at a nearby venue. I had been a fan of Connie Francis back in the day, as were most peeps, but knowing that she’s even longer in the tooth than I (by damned near a decade), I was sort of “Feh” about the adventure. But, seeing as how our friends were going and Mrs. Parkway wanted to go, I agreed.

On the night of the concert, I was kicking myself in the ass that I agreed to go, but I was looking forward to the pre-show dinner with two of the Usual Suspects. After eating a table full of Pub Grub, drinking a few pints and having more than a few laughs, we were off to the show. Once seated, I checked out the band orchestra and was most impressed. By my count, there were 17 or 18 musicians, including a couple of violinists and even a harpist. There was a drummer and a percussion guy who played, among other things, the tympani drums. The guitar player doubled on mandolin. Lots of brass. A first-class assemblage.

The orchestra opened with a overture of several of Connie’s hits (She’s had a bunch of them), which was most impressive. Connie took the stage and sang a couple opening cover tunes, after which she sang some of her many hits, including her first and possibly most famous one. Many of the songs were paired with a slide show retrospective of her life and career. Between songs, she spoke about her life in New Jersey and the highs and lows of her career, including her four failed marriages.

Following an intermission, she returned to sing several songs she has recorded in foreign languages, including “Mama,” which brought the house down.

I was thoroughly entertained and was pleasantly surprised that she still could lay it in. Sure, her fastball has lost a bit of heat, but no more than would be expected of someone in her early seventies. Only one tune was a bit of a train wreck (“Old Time Rock and Roll”), when she got ahead of the orchestra, but the orchestra leader handled it well – so well that I heard it, but no one else in our group noticed.

The bottom line is that if you grew up listening to Connie Francis’s music (either on your own, or via your parents), you would enjoy seeing her in concert – an American woman with a most impressive musical career.

Sing it out, Connie!

As the summer is working its way to the finish line, I’ve been spending more time outside, away from Mr. Computer (You may have noticed).

Anyway, yesterday, daughter TJ, came to the House By The Parkway (South) for a visit, which included a dinner (including wine, of course) out at a local Italian joint. We were joined by sister-in-law and two nieces. I believe that if I were given an Indian name, it would be, “Man Who Travels With Women.” (I could think of worse things.)

This morning, we did breakfast by the bay at a nearby place. See below.

This retirement thing is rough.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote a post in which I mentioned that I needed a new mouse pad. As of today, I still hadn’t gotten around to buying one, because needing a new mouse pad is like needing new shoe laces. One doesn’t think about shoe laces until one ties one’s shoes.

Well, I am happy to say that El Capitan, my buddy from the great state of Texas, must have felt my mouse pad pain and gifted me with two mouse pads, both of which arrived in the mail today.

Behold. (clicking makes bigger)

I positively love this one in which El Cap photoshopped my sorry guitar-playing ass into a very famous painting.

This one is positively horrifying, but I love it, particularly the side that does not have an alligator on it. 🙂

This is proof positive that just about the best thing that has come of blogging is getting to be friends with other bloggers across the country. I’ve spent time with El Cap at blogmeets in Austin and in Kerrville, Texas. Excellent guy, right there, for shitsure.

Thanks, Cap.

If there are angels walking about on this planet, Kaziah may well be one of them.

N.B. You might want to keep a tissue handy.

Thanks to my buddy Brian, the Air Force Vet

via Scribal Terror

This has been making the rounds on the web. I found it on Joan’s site.