Wednesday, June 25, 2008

I was smokin' with the boys upstairs
When I heard about the whole affair

This is a great video...

I wish I could write about my day here.

I really do.

But I can't.

I spent the day in Butte, Montana, home of the world's largest Superfund Site.

World's largest. A point of perverse pride.

I had planned on stopping at the pit, taking the tour and taking some pictures. I ended up talking to rich people all day. Weird, rich people.

And they liked me. Go figure.

^^Take the time and watch that video. It's long, but it is realy fucking cool.

It would probably be most interesting to musicians or Steely Dan fans... which is redundant and repetitious.

They are pretty damn great musicians.

Weird, too.

I don't think they are from Butte.

Watch young, young James Taylor ((with hair!!)) take the second verse of this song at the No Nukes concert in 1977.

Also, check Carly Simon in a bodsysuit holding a tambourine, Michael McDonald, Patrick Simmons, the rest of the Doobie Brothers, James Tayor's mustache (((yeah!))), Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitt, Graham Nash, Tyrone the Doobie Brothers black, bearded saxophonist, some other non-threatening black people, and what appears to be equal amounts polyester, sequins, hairspray and cocaine.

And, in the 21st Century, we now know that comination stopped complete and total nuclear war and gave Ronald Reagan the strength to tear down the Berlin Wall.

Even if his head did kind of waver back and forth in sync with his waving hand.

A little like he was retarded, or maybe just slow.

((((Reagan joke. How you like them apples, children? Next up, Hoover.))))

I was eight. It was a pretty cool record.

(But No Nukes, man.)

We had the double album of this benefit concert. On vinyl. Duh.

My dad's favorite band when I was a kid was the Doobie Brothers.

I attended mulitiple Doobie Brothers concerts with my parents. At Alpine Valley.

My mom's favorite musician was James Taylor. Whom I have also seen multiple times. With my parents, at Alpine Valley.

She said that there were only two people that she would leave my dad for...

(Yeah, that's ending a sentence in a preposition. I know it; you know it; I acknowledge it; let it go.)

James Taylor and Clint Eastwood.

And, you know what?

I understood.

I was only twelve.

But, shit.

James Taylor?

Clint Eastwood?

I was twelve, and I would've left my parents for either one of those dudes.

The cool thing is that some 30 years later, I can abide by that decision.

I can abide.

The dude abides.