Rock and Roll and Family Values

Hello now from Jericho Vermont, between Burlington and Stowe. I’m at the home of my longest-running friend Chip and his family – wife Janice and daughters Anna (shmooper) and Katie (bug). We have been doing our best to enjoy today’s fine weather and the wonderful assortment of microbrews that are the pride of certain Vermonters.

On my way into town I rode (through much rain) past the Champlain Valley Exposition Grounds, the home of last years’ BMW MOA rally. It would appear that all riders have by now successfully left the fair grounds. I just wanted to make sure.

Tomorrow I will start on the final push towards home. And there are many good reasons to return home. I will write more later about most of those, but for now I will mention that I need to limber up musically for a performance next Saturday, July 28^th. My most excellent rock band –Rival Tribe- will take the stage at Springfield Virginia’s JAXX night club, self-described as “DC’s Euro Metal Home” (whatever that is). As part of a day-long event, we are scheduled to play at 9PM, but these things have a tendency to change. I am 100% excited to play with my bandmates again and to play for those who might appreciate such things. And after three months on the road, I really ought to practice soon. . .

Understood that most readers here are not candidates to visit JAXX as they (you) live elsewhere or don’t necessarily gravitate to Euro Metal, but for those who do attend, I’ll be happy to buy you a drink if you identify yourself with either a BMW motorcycle shirt or a hashing shirt of some variety.

There are many band-related jokes, but my favorite applies to me – and I intend to demonstrate its accuracy next weekend. . .

Q: What do you call a person who hangs out with musicians?

A: The bass player.

And since the topic of music is at hand, I’ll also include the lyrics to the (incomplete) song I wrote over the past couple months. Called “Right of Way,” it reflects my propensity to yield to most any object larger or more menacing than I. . .

The right of way is what you’ll have if you’re as old as my granddad

Shorts with black sox, and you’re driving an RV

With a hearing aide that’s shot, the whole world’s in your blind spot

How the hell are ever gonna see me?

The right of way is what you’ve got if you’ve been drinking a lot

Seeing double’s no good when you drive

You might weave into the two of me, then the three of us might hit a tree

Then no one would make it out alive

The right of way is what you’ll feel if you drive eighteen wheels

Hauling logs and kicking up stones

On the Dempster or Dalton Highways or the Top of the World Skyway

I don’t want to be left with broken bones

The right of way for you is clear if you are a reindeer

Like the chicken, why’d you cross the road?

You and me we’re pretty scared about the narrow lane we just shared

One antler in my wheel and I’d explode

Okay, enough of faux-creativity, time to enjoy my time with friends. . .