9 January 2017
Everybody's In Show-Biz - Even the DCFP
(Some people get shit for Christmas. Industrial workers like me know just how thin the line is between relative prosperity and joining the people who get shit for Christmas and get shit on the other 364 days of the year. We need to organize our world in such a way that one fuck of a lot more people do not get shit or shit on 365 days a year. It is in ALL of our best interest to do so.)
Sonja and I went downtown on Saturday. It was Sonja's idea but we both had Christmas cash to burn still in our pockets because it has been kind of hard to get around what with the snow and all.
"Can we start the day down there at the pub?" I asked when she brought it up.
"Why not?" Sonja answered. I drive a hard fucking bargain.
The pub, packed when we patronized it in December, had five people in it having lunch when we walked over a homeless fucker in its doorway and had a look around inside. No one else came in the whole time we were there. That is how far people extend themselves financially at Christmas. Do not even have pub money once New Year's is done. It is motherfucking insane.
It was warm inside, our waitress sweet, the food more than adequate, the liquor effective. Humble Pie's fired up version of "I Don't Need No Doctor" got played not quite loud enough for either of us on the house stereo.
"To Steve Marriott," Sonja toasted, knowing I am still sort of bummed Status Quo's Rick Parfitt died on Christmas Eve. We clinked glasses and swallowed an appropriate amount to once again commemorate someone who sure knew how to rock 'n' roll.
Sonja found lots of clothes to spend her money on. While she shopped I had a look at the guy's clothes in the shops that had any. Everything appeared to be made in fucking China. Did not buy any.
What I did buy was a re-release of one of my first records - one which I have played less than I would liked to have because it is one of the few I own that is plain wore out - too many spins on the old family record player before I started spending my money on stereo equipment - The Kinks' "Everybody's In Show-Biz."
Odd the record would be my favourite of their's. It has to be one of the least punk rock records ever made. Great songs though. Nice horn arrangements. When I was a teenager the record convinced me England must be a fucking magic place. Of course England never was, is not now, nor ever will be Magic unless it is Black Magic you are looking for. That, motherfuckers, is the Magic of the well written song.