Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

The clearest description I have managed so far about my blog is that it is not about cats. In general, I find predators pretty predictable while prey on the other-hand, because they live in universes of anxiety, develop more textured personalities. I also have as a writer a deft hand when it comes to making matters worse, so of course , the already panicky are ready made for me. I will try to grow this blog into an assortment of laughs, because that is what my life has mostly taught me to do. I will use the famous people I have known to get your attention and then tell you small but many times wonderful things about them. I will never name the ones I say ugly things about but I hope you will guess who they are.

The Who # 4 The Roadies

It took me a tour to grasp just how loyal The Who were to the people who had helped them from the start.
I do not mean to say that this faithfulness was singular to them. I certainly was, on certain occasions, kept on beyond any comprehensible usefulness as well.
Many of their roadies made their way, day to day, through a kind of Shadowland, having punished their basic human structure so perversely, that some were barely aware any longer of their surroundings.
I started out as a roadie. I worked for a band called “Five Dollar Shoes.” Melanie Safka, the folk singer, managed them. She also named them, stealing the idea from an old black song, ” Mom, Please Buy me a Pair of One Dollar Shoes.) She cunningly upgraded it to “five dollars”. In the long term, this incline did not help.
I was paid to lug their equipment to a club on the beach somewhere in South New Jersey. They were to open for “Sly and the Family Stone.” Sly was to me a fucking God. He was also a legendarily undependable shit-bag.
We loaded up the small Uhaul truck with all their stage gear and spent the day driving down from New York. The guy in charge of me knew how to plug in the electronics. In the pantheon of all human knowledge, this was all he knew that I did not.
We unloaded and set up the gear. Our band, “The Shoes” showed up ready and on time for the sound check. They resembled a more garish imitation of Queen and Freddy Mercury shoved into a dryer full of scarves.
The show was eventually cancelled without our boys even getting on stage because Sly didn’t show. We packed up the shit again and drove back to New York. I quit the next day.
I may well have been a roadie for the shortest period in Rock history. A tie was the best anyone else could ever manage.

five dollao


What would science look like if all the genius incinerated in Germany during the Holocaust had been available these last seventy years.
What would art look like now if AIDS had not cut homosexuals in half?
Would black children be any different than white children if their fathers were not in jail?
Would we still have a middle class if parents it did not have to pay the colleges all that they will ever earn?
Would we be still shooting each other if the Networks did not consider it a profit base for their nighttime programs?


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