Olympic Hopeful News from the Turf

Hi All!

If you happen to notice the time of this post, you will forgive me my brevity, as I do believe I collected at least a chapter's worth in my ever-forthcoming book about the incredible live performances I have witnessed in my life.

Hey, this wasn't close to the Faces last concert at the Minneapolis Auditorium in, um, '74? Ronnie Woods last gig before selling out to work for the Stones. Rod the Mod before he became a lounge singer.... Damn.... another chapter.

'77, Kelly's Pub, Suicide Commandos opening for some unknown family band from NYC, the Ramones... Chapter 8, perhaps. I got pictures to prove I was there.

Anyhow, I gotta get up for AA in a few more hours, and I can say that anyone who was at the Turf Club tonight might have noticed the fat, middle-aged clump holding down the end of the bar, nursing O'Doul's Ambers and sucking on glasses of ice. Geez, you really gotta tip them tenders good to get them to keep the ice going.

Anaway, came back with lotsa swag and had a jolly good time, capped by a pretty remarkable performance by the Olympic Hopefuls, who sounded quite good considering they had just performed in the semi-tropical Minnesota July heat at the Basillica of St Mary's Rock Festival -- 'nother chapter there... and they had a session man bass player filling in for the regular guy who just had back surgery.

Talk about suffering for Art.

Well, I could go on, and I always think I'm gonna blog a full-length followup, but sometimes the memories slip away or I inexplicitly lose interest.

Remind me to blog about them flat-chested girls. Freaks of nature. What was UP with that? I mean, they could easily hide behind a telephone pole. Not sexy to me, but I guess I used up my libido well before the anti-depressants and the liver poisoning.

Cheers!