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One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

I belong to an online music club. I pay $7 a month to get a hardcopy CD mailed to me from my queue of chosen CDs. If my queue runs out they charge me anyway-I’m not this foolish. Initially I front loaded my queue with ten or so CDs I’d been wanting to get for the first time or replace in my current collection. Since that batch ran it’s course I’ve spottily kept barely ahead of the ‘nothing in your queue’ gotcha. Normally I’ll add a whole album based on a song I’ve heard recently on the radio or the Coverville podcast.

Somewhere I heard George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone” so I added his “Greatest Hits: 30 Years of Rock” CD. I recognized enough songs in the list of 16 that I had no trouble adding it to my queue and then bumping it to the top. I’ve never known what metric a label uses to determine greatness or hit-iosity, so I can’t say if something is obviously missing or erroneously included. I can only say I sing along to some more than others.

I first heard “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” on this album less than a month ago. I love it. I replay it immediately after it ends. I’ll skip back to it sometimes when “Willie and the Hand Jive” just isn’t cutting it for my driving pleasure. I’ve wondered if there are any good covers.

This song makes me feel like I’ve pushed the moldering newspapers off an old chest in the attic and found the storybook grandma read to me as a child. You know, the one about bourbon, scotch, and beer.

Word count: 278
Day 218

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Imbuers Local #451

Sadly, it’s taken me two days to write the following and three to post. I’ve taken that as a sign to let it simmer—or die—rather than to push it further.

A single voice intoned the chant.

Other voices joined the first in staggering succession as if each new singer required a sense more substantial than mere hearing to recognize the invitation. [expand here] As the number of singers grew others joined more quickly until the swell of the chant could not be ignored by the remaining few—save one, the chant’s initiator.

Thima, toak-Slay ceased chanting after several others took up the song. It waited silently but not unmovingly for the remaining Imbuers to join. Thima maneuvered the crowded dais to the edge and signaled for the next hoop to be lowered into place.

The unseen audience hushed to silence when they heard the

Word count: 115
Day 216 and 217

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Not Not Writing

I am not not writing.  I’m in In-law induced hibernation.

Or was.

If you don’t see something here later today or tonight then I am indeed a slacking bastard and should be taken to task for it.

I extended the inspiration of that cloth covered bowl I mentioned a week back to include a fun new fantastical garment.  Maybe I’ll do that.

This doesn’t count.