I buy old records. Like everything I do, I do it for kicks. Some people shoot at one another in the street to get their kicks. My hobby is a little more pastoral, much like my Steepleton surroundings.
Yesterday I bought two mint Smothers Brothers records: "Think Ethnic" and "Curb Your Tongue, Knave!" Listened to them this morning, Sonja still curled up in bed, as I made blueberry muffins and cleaned up the kitchen before heading out to join Shitface Canada on her annual holiday.
We both laughed as hard as the recorded audience did in early 1963 St. Louis and later that same year in Chicago. Timeless these records are. Took us both back to evenings in front of the family black and white. To the days when there was good shit on the rabbit ear topped box.
Our lives would have been both a lot less fun and a little less intelligent without the Smothers Brothers. Thanks, you crazy motherfuckers.
2 comments:
me too, although it was cheech and chong and the occasional monty python.
was thinking tonight about steve martin's record about smoking dope, "wanna get small?" "shhhhhhttttpop" "wow, I'm so small ..."
getting small. late 70s style
My comedy records are as rarely played as most peoples. Thanks for reminding me of Martin's. They deserve a spin for old time's sake.
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