Am I wired! Not chemically but physically mind ya. Spiritually even. And hey, if one can get "high on life" maybe one can become a speed-freak because of it and I sure have enough caffeine-produced energy in me at this point to not only crank out reams of incoherent and incomprehensible screed on a variety of subjects both fave or not but shudder in abject fear and enjoy the terse tide of sound as vindication at the same moment. And yeah, I plan on coming down naturally as the evening progresses but if I don't I'll do it the right and proper way. Not with barbiturates and a few snorts like Nick Kent used to do, but with some melatonin and Ny-Quil. Not until much later...hey, I have this blog to do.
Been suffering through the bared-wire drive of it all moving between the computer keyboard and my bedside boom box comfy chair creating this week's post while trying to use my current nerved-out state in a positive way, like by listening to some equally hell-bent music while reading what I (and maybe you) would call heavy duty rockscreed the kind you hardly see anymore. In this case I'm beginning to read the entire Jonh Ingham MY BACK PAGES blog (see link on left) which I printed out for my own personal bed-time enjoyment. (I also ran off a copy for Brad Kohler to peruse but please don't mention it to him...I want it to be a surprise.) Quite inspiring stuff I must say, and although I'm only about a tenth of the way through I find his opines, expertise and autobiographical tales even more exhilarating than I made 'em out to be in last Wednesday's review of Ingham's punk rock snaps. Right now I'm more or less bludgeoning my way through his diary of the 1976 Patti Smith European tour which makes most of 'em (even Lester Bangs' much hailed Clash one from a year later) look like pure piddle, and that coupled with me spinning my current night time fave JIMMY BELL'S STILL IN TOWN by 15-60-75 The Numbers Band has made for a hard-drive evening of total rock 'n roll as that seventeen-year pulsating drive (talking '64-'81 though much that came before was pure prophesy and most that came after pure shit) that I'm sure glad I was able to live through even if I was unconscious or just too young to fully appreciate what was happening during that time.
As for 15-60-75, nothing they really did after this captures the mania they were legendary for throughout the seventies like JIMMY BELL does. Heck, at this point in time I'll even fall for Robert Christgoo's exclamation about how they sound like a cross between the Velvet Underground and the Grateful Dead, but only if we're talking WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT with horns and a percussion line or the Dead on a better-than-average night long before the bad acid and the mindless adoration really kicked in. And combined with Ingham's more masterful than Hinman wordplay the experience was a double-barreled blast into my rockism psyche that rarely encroaches into my oft flatline existence. Only got a burn of this on hand...maybe I'll splurge for the Hearthan reissue and make everything nice and OFFICIAL.
If you really have the urge to puke and don't have any ipecac available just click on the video screen presented in Nowicki's article and be taken to a page where, after you get up enough stomach to watch this sugar coated brain-decaying dandy IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE swipe so common in eighties entertainment, you can actually get to read the comments section where some sap actually wrote in saying how this vid (now get this!) saved his useless upper midclass suburban existence that, judging from the guy's tepid saga revealed therein, had nil value whatsoever so what's the great loss! Gee, if that song only had served the purpose it had not intended maybe we would have been rid of those irksome leeches who have been bothering us since time immemorial, or at least since the days of the loathsome video-drenched eighties which really drove rock 'n roll as the true cutting avant garde expression in our lives to total moosh. For a reminder of just what the post-rock era really meant to us all, look no further than this sanctimonious slab of self-righteous feelygood and be thankful to whatever lucky stars there are that I'VE BEEN AROUND DOIN' ALL OF THIS ROCK-SCREEDING FOR OVER THIRTYSOME YEARS IF ONLY TO SET YOU UNWORTHY PEONS STRAIGHT!!!
Galactic Explorers-EPITAPH FOR VENUS CD (Pyramid/Mental Experience, available via Guerssen, Spain)
Haw, I reviewed a CD burn of this 'un a few years back and now the thing has been reissued on the highly-recommended Mental Experience label outta Spain if you can believe it. And like, what more can I say about this platter which I guess ain't a fake like I had been led to believe...a pretty good heap up of various kraut sources (Tangerine Dream, Cluster/Harmonia...) all combined into a nice little package that might have been the best compact export since the VW had this only gotten out. Makes me wonder what other gems are rotting away over in the Olde Worlde just beggin' to be heard by our kraut-starved ears.
Various Artists-LA MUSICA FUTURISTA NELL'ITALIA E NEL MONDO 2-LP set (Modern Silence, available here)
Shee-yucks, the entire newspaper-styled sleeve (kinda reminiscent of past album covers by the Four Seasons, John & Yoko and Jethro Tull!) is all in dago-ese and I can't read a word of it! Not only that, but the first album in this collection is nada but spoken word explanations of the futurist movement (with scant music) spoken in the native tongue and it all comes off like listening to Bacciagalupe talking about a bad calamari incident he had at a local eyetalian restaurant! At least the other 'un's got some interesting sounds including that one 78 that gets on all these Futurist collections as well as works by the likes of Arthur Honegger ("Pacific 231") and...Paul Whiteman (!) that show just how far-reaching Futurism was even if it wasn't exactly the kinda thing you blabbed about at the dinner table. If you know the lingo and can understand the bulk of this...fine enough.
Kilburn and the High Roads-HANDSOME 2-CD set (Cherry Red, England)
I was warned for ages to avoid those pre-Blockheads-era Ian Dury platters which is strange, because other'n but one yellow vinyl Stiff Records single not to mention STIFFS LIVE I owned nada by the guy! Of course then again I was an extremely frugal fellow when it came to buying records of all sorts during those depression-era wages days because like, if I only had six bucks plus change to spend on a record hunting excursion to Cleveland Heights why should I waste it on something I might not actually have an affinity for? Now that I'm a rich (hah!) bugger whose been buggered too many times by poor record choices all I can say is...maybe I shoulda sprung for those reduced priced High Roads albums that were cluttering up the used record shops of the early-eighties.
You know how it sounds, not quite rock 'n roll yet quite enchanting neo-reggae dance music with heavy English flavours (!) included. Good enough that even ROCK NEWS considered 'em a fine example of early-'76 English punkdom and who can argue with that!
The new bonus Cee-Dee is a great 'un complete with alternate takes and radio tracks that add that nice tinglin' dimension to it all. Just get outta your mind how the Stiff empire that started from such humble pub beginnings evolved into new unto gnu wave and maybe you'll like it just as much as I could.
Anais Maviel-HOULE CD-r burn (Gold Bolus Records, try Anais Maviel Bandcamp)
If yer big on the myriad assortment of female mewlers and moaners who have been making their monikers known since the days of Cathy Berberian you'll probably love Anais Maviel, a singer and percussionist who hails from Haiti of all places. Maviel coos and eeks while thumping on a variety of percussions making a music that sounds part beatnik experimentation and part voodoo ritual which makes me wonder just what KIND of healing powers her music is supposed to produce. Hopefully it won't make any of your tiny appendages droop off, but you might get some interesting jamz out of her talents like I did. These numbuhs stimulate your spirit and suck you in to their true magic, which come to think of it is the same allakazam that any great piece of sound which makes you feel like a true specimen can create!
The Resonars-NONETHELESS BLUE CD-r burn (originally on Get Hip Records)
Dane Rousay-ANATOMIZE CD-r burn (Kendra Steiner Editions, Rousay's site obtainable via
www.danerousay.com)
I gotta admit that I was always enamored (well, at least I was since reading some old books on the avant garde music scene of the thirties) with those mostly if not totally percussion ensembles such as the ones that produced Edgard Varese's "Ionization" not to mention those various John Cage landscapes and other early-forties efforts featuring vocal/tom tom duets. If you like those, or if you like the Milford Graves album on ESP or the Andrew Cyrille one on BYG, you just might like ANATOMIZE. Rousay is a very talented multi-percussionist who uses various banging instruments to create free form rhythms and "found" sounds (ringing phone, bird calls so real you'll think a robin fell down the chimney again) all to mind-engaging effect, and really if you think a percussion platter would be filled with nothing but boring pitterpats guaranteed to send you to the bongo room think different. ANATOMIZE is a wail of a recording and something that I would call "adventurous" even these days when we all thought the adventure ran out years and years ago.
The Only Ones-LIVE AT THE LONGHORN BAR, MINNEAPOLIS MINNESOTA, OCTOBER 2, 1979 CD-r burn
Good swing to these two sets even if the sound comes off a little too sterile FM. The Only Ones were one of the better under-the-covers English groups to hit the late-seventies Amerigan shores, and this show captures some of the energy and excitement that made Peter Perrett a household name, in some of the stranger houses around I will admit. You already know the legend, this is just a bitta trimming.for those of you following one of your favorite reserved junkie musicians and no, I don't mean James Taylor.
The Rolling Stones-THE COMPLETE BRITISH RADIO BROADCASTS 1962-1965 2-CD set (London Calling Records, available via Forced Exposure)
Gotta wonder about the legality of this (along with all of those Keyhole Records offerings that I have been snatching up these past few years) but as long as they're comin' out like, I ain't gonna blab to the gendarmes! Quality on these English radio sessions and live performances are way better'n those nth generation tapes that have been flying around for years, and if you wanna hear the Stones not only in a rawer'n usual environment but at their prime long before they became THE WORLD'S GREATEST JOKE well, you can't do better'n this. As you'd expect there are some pretty exhilarating moments to be found within these...grooves??? but whatever you do, don't throw out all of those old Stones bootlegs just yet...howzbout givin' 'em to me!!!
The Pills-A FISTFUL OF PILLS CD-r burn (originally on Primary Voltage Records)
For being a 21st Century production these Pills ain't hard to swallow. Not the Jymn Parrett Texas punk bunch (drat!), these guys (and gal singer) are Pills of a different nature...more like hard pop soft metal teenage rock that shoulda been bigger back inna seventies but hey, how could you sell a stoner box boy with terminal acne on a band like this? Mildly exciting music that does serve its purpose (whatever that is), and for being yet more fodder for the newer-than-new young hipster set or something like that all I gotta say that its...a lot better'n I thought it was gonna be!
JUNE WILKINSON AND HER PHYSICAL FITNESS FORMULA CD-r burn (originally on Calendar Records)
I dunno if any of you female readers (do I have any???) will start sprouting succulent and ripe-looking suckems after doin' these exercises, but I get the feeling that most of you MALE readers would have enjoyed watching this famed glamour gal doing her knee bending and toe touching routines. Listen to that young and innocent voice with the sexy English accent give out instructions counting "one-two...now kick as high as you can!" while jazzy music straight outta some 1962 z-feature plays on. Now quick, rush to the bathroom and don't let anyone see you!
Various Artists-LITTLE RED MOJO WONDER CD-r burn (Bill Shute)
Another grab o' bag here with a number of good 'uns mixed with things that might be good enough but just don't appeal to my sense of digestion. F'rexample the Congress of Wonders comedy blackouts only reminded me of the unfunny tank that much comedy fell into back in the late-sixties (even MAD came off wittier) while a lotta the soul-y blooz-y stuff sounded like the saggy rejects they obviously were. Some good points include the Rolling Stones doing "Little Red Rooster" (not too sure, but is this some sorta alt-take Bill?) and the Cadets of "Stranded in the Jungle" fame doing a bright toe-tapped entitled "I Want You". Oddly enough my fave of the batch has to be this self-produced single from some band called Snak who do a fair Hendrix swipe on the a-side and a standard hard scronker on the flip. A good cross-section of something that was goin' on back in the more original and exciting past of ours...maybe you can tell me just exactly what that was.
Been suffering through the bared-wire drive of it all moving between the computer keyboard and my bedside boom box comfy chair creating this week's post while trying to use my current nerved-out state in a positive way, like by listening to some equally hell-bent music while reading what I (and maybe you) would call heavy duty rockscreed the kind you hardly see anymore. In this case I'm beginning to read the entire Jonh Ingham MY BACK PAGES blog (see link on left) which I printed out for my own personal bed-time enjoyment. (I also ran off a copy for Brad Kohler to peruse but please don't mention it to him...I want it to be a surprise.) Quite inspiring stuff I must say, and although I'm only about a tenth of the way through I find his opines, expertise and autobiographical tales even more exhilarating than I made 'em out to be in last Wednesday's review of Ingham's punk rock snaps. Right now I'm more or less bludgeoning my way through his diary of the 1976 Patti Smith European tour which makes most of 'em (even Lester Bangs' much hailed Clash one from a year later) look like pure piddle, and that coupled with me spinning my current night time fave JIMMY BELL'S STILL IN TOWN by 15-60-75 The Numbers Band has made for a hard-drive evening of total rock 'n roll as that seventeen-year pulsating drive (talking '64-'81 though much that came before was pure prophesy and most that came after pure shit) that I'm sure glad I was able to live through even if I was unconscious or just too young to fully appreciate what was happening during that time.
As for 15-60-75, nothing they really did after this captures the mania they were legendary for throughout the seventies like JIMMY BELL does. Heck, at this point in time I'll even fall for Robert Christgoo's exclamation about how they sound like a cross between the Velvet Underground and the Grateful Dead, but only if we're talking WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT with horns and a percussion line or the Dead on a better-than-average night long before the bad acid and the mindless adoration really kicked in. And combined with Ingham's more masterful than Hinman wordplay the experience was a double-barreled blast into my rockism psyche that rarely encroaches into my oft flatline existence. Only got a burn of this on hand...maybe I'll splurge for the Hearthan reissue and make everything nice and OFFICIAL.
***I dunno how many of you get FETV (stands for Family Entertainment Television) on your various non-broadcast systems but this new station really does seem to be filling a hole in my boob tube viewing habits. Unfortunately this more fambly-oriented outfit tends to air many of the programs that I would like to watch during the afternoon work hours or inna middle of the night (and I sure would like to see HAZEL if only to find out if it was as cornballus as everyone made it out to be) but the evening hours sure give me a respite from the usual caga that tends to get pushed on my ever-fragile mindset. Seven-thirty inna evening's got THE LONE RANGER on weeknights and maybe other times as well (I tend to switch between this, LOU DOBBS TONIGHT and M*A*S*H [the very early ones mind you when the Radar character was still kinda sleazy and far from the farmboy tuck in the soldiers and kiss them goodnight doof he eventually became] making for some bizarro tee-vee viewing) but at eight I find myself tuning into PERRY MASON with an alarming regularity. 's funny, but I'm old enough to remember this show at the tail end of its network sojurn as well as the years of reruns it was on afterwards (and late-fifties loving me used to watch this 'un even as a single-digiter, not for the actual story but for the definitely non-hippie ambiance of the thing!) but now that I'm older and crotchetier I find myself getting intrigued with the plots and interesting twists, not forgetting the fact that I like to catch glimpses of some of my favorite old time stars either on the way up or way down. Every time I watch this show my entire youth, at least the fun, goof off portion of it, comes right back and given just how dull things have become in the interim when such behavior is considered immature for a person of my age any fond memories of a not-so-bad past are most certainly welcome.
***Uh, are any of you out there thinking about ending it all? Doin' the deep six 'n all that because life is just too much to bear what with all of those hurt feelings and various assaults being directed at your unique and special existence? I sure hope so, and if this is the case then you should (and with haste!) read this particular piece regarding that once-hailed and noble yet totally forgotten anti-suicide video courtesy of the one and thankfully only Billy Joel entitled "You're Only Human (Second Wind)"! (In case you're keeping tabs, this article was coagulated by Andy Nowicki, perhaps my current fave socio-political commentator other'n a few thousand others.) Who knows, just a few choruses of Joel's noble effort to stem the tide of eighties-era depression by zoning the youth of them days with even more of the sappiness they adored might actually make you go through with it this time! 'n hey, given how much of a hatred I have for Billy Joel and his entire bug eyed, smirking existence, Nowicki's opinions really go down nice 'n easy even thirty years after the atrocity was unleashed on a generation that certainly deserved to off itself given just how disgusting the entire eighties seemed not only then but continues to do so a few decades in hindsight.
If you really have the urge to puke and don't have any ipecac available just click on the video screen presented in Nowicki's article and be taken to a page where, after you get up enough stomach to watch this sugar coated brain-decaying dandy IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE swipe so common in eighties entertainment, you can actually get to read the comments section where some sap actually wrote in saying how this vid (now get this!) saved his useless upper midclass suburban existence that, judging from the guy's tepid saga revealed therein, had nil value whatsoever so what's the great loss! Gee, if that song only had served the purpose it had not intended maybe we would have been rid of those irksome leeches who have been bothering us since time immemorial, or at least since the days of the loathsome video-drenched eighties which really drove rock 'n roll as the true cutting avant garde expression in our lives to total moosh. For a reminder of just what the post-rock era really meant to us all, look no further than this sanctimonious slab of self-righteous feelygood and be thankful to whatever lucky stars there are that I'VE BEEN AROUND DOIN' ALL OF THIS ROCK-SCREEDING FOR OVER THIRTYSOME YEARS IF ONLY TO SET YOU UNWORTHY PEONS STRAIGHT!!!
***Enough autobiographical goo that might have worked for Eddie Flowers but not for me. Here are this week's big spins, most of it courtesy of personal faves Bill Shute, Paul McGarry and P.D. Fadensonnen (I managed to find more of his Christmas-era booty and boy am I glad!). Also gotta give big heaping thanks to Bob Forward for his latest package containing burns of not only Roscoe Mitchell's BELLS FOR THE SOUTH SIDE double-header on ECM but Roland Kirk's RIP RIG AND PANIC. Unfortunately the disques sent skip and sound static-y when played...might be my cheap bedside boom box's fault for this so I'll try to have 'em all on hand for my next long car ride to see just where the problem might lie! I'm bettin' on the disques but hey, I have been known to jump to conclusions at times (just ask Bill!).
Haw, I reviewed a CD burn of this 'un a few years back and now the thing has been reissued on the highly-recommended Mental Experience label outta Spain if you can believe it. And like, what more can I say about this platter which I guess ain't a fake like I had been led to believe...a pretty good heap up of various kraut sources (Tangerine Dream, Cluster/Harmonia...) all combined into a nice little package that might have been the best compact export since the VW had this only gotten out. Makes me wonder what other gems are rotting away over in the Olde Worlde just beggin' to be heard by our kraut-starved ears.
***
Shee-yucks, the entire newspaper-styled sleeve (kinda reminiscent of past album covers by the Four Seasons, John & Yoko and Jethro Tull!) is all in dago-ese and I can't read a word of it! Not only that, but the first album in this collection is nada but spoken word explanations of the futurist movement (with scant music) spoken in the native tongue and it all comes off like listening to Bacciagalupe talking about a bad calamari incident he had at a local eyetalian restaurant! At least the other 'un's got some interesting sounds including that one 78 that gets on all these Futurist collections as well as works by the likes of Arthur Honegger ("Pacific 231") and...Paul Whiteman (!) that show just how far-reaching Futurism was even if it wasn't exactly the kinda thing you blabbed about at the dinner table. If you know the lingo and can understand the bulk of this...fine enough.
***
I was warned for ages to avoid those pre-Blockheads-era Ian Dury platters which is strange, because other'n but one yellow vinyl Stiff Records single not to mention STIFFS LIVE I owned nada by the guy! Of course then again I was an extremely frugal fellow when it came to buying records of all sorts during those depression-era wages days because like, if I only had six bucks plus change to spend on a record hunting excursion to Cleveland Heights why should I waste it on something I might not actually have an affinity for? Now that I'm a rich (hah!) bugger whose been buggered too many times by poor record choices all I can say is...maybe I shoulda sprung for those reduced priced High Roads albums that were cluttering up the used record shops of the early-eighties.
You know how it sounds, not quite rock 'n roll yet quite enchanting neo-reggae dance music with heavy English flavours (!) included. Good enough that even ROCK NEWS considered 'em a fine example of early-'76 English punkdom and who can argue with that!
The new bonus Cee-Dee is a great 'un complete with alternate takes and radio tracks that add that nice tinglin' dimension to it all. Just get outta your mind how the Stiff empire that started from such humble pub beginnings evolved into new unto gnu wave and maybe you'll like it just as much as I could.
***
If yer big on the myriad assortment of female mewlers and moaners who have been making their monikers known since the days of Cathy Berberian you'll probably love Anais Maviel, a singer and percussionist who hails from Haiti of all places. Maviel coos and eeks while thumping on a variety of percussions making a music that sounds part beatnik experimentation and part voodoo ritual which makes me wonder just what KIND of healing powers her music is supposed to produce. Hopefully it won't make any of your tiny appendages droop off, but you might get some interesting jamz out of her talents like I did. These numbuhs stimulate your spirit and suck you in to their true magic, which come to think of it is the same allakazam that any great piece of sound which makes you feel like a true specimen can create!
***
For a minute I thought this group was called the Reasoners and I was wondering why someone would name an act like this in memory of a famous early tee-vee-era newscaster! Then I discovered that they were called the Resonars which was even more creepy because...what the heck is a resonar anyway? Fortunately this act does put out with some good enough Byrds ideas meshed into the standard newer than new groove bands like this who seemed to be popping up outta nowhere for the past thirtysome years. Not bad, but like many of these recent (even ten years back like this 'un!) attempts at past accomplishment for a new audience not my cup of pee.
***
www.danerousay.com)
I gotta admit that I was always enamored (well, at least I was since reading some old books on the avant garde music scene of the thirties) with those mostly if not totally percussion ensembles such as the ones that produced Edgard Varese's "Ionization" not to mention those various John Cage landscapes and other early-forties efforts featuring vocal/tom tom duets. If you like those, or if you like the Milford Graves album on ESP or the Andrew Cyrille one on BYG, you just might like ANATOMIZE. Rousay is a very talented multi-percussionist who uses various banging instruments to create free form rhythms and "found" sounds (ringing phone, bird calls so real you'll think a robin fell down the chimney again) all to mind-engaging effect, and really if you think a percussion platter would be filled with nothing but boring pitterpats guaranteed to send you to the bongo room think different. ANATOMIZE is a wail of a recording and something that I would call "adventurous" even these days when we all thought the adventure ran out years and years ago.
***
Good swing to these two sets even if the sound comes off a little too sterile FM. The Only Ones were one of the better under-the-covers English groups to hit the late-seventies Amerigan shores, and this show captures some of the energy and excitement that made Peter Perrett a household name, in some of the stranger houses around I will admit. You already know the legend, this is just a bitta trimming.for those of you following one of your favorite reserved junkie musicians and no, I don't mean James Taylor.
***
Gotta wonder about the legality of this (along with all of those Keyhole Records offerings that I have been snatching up these past few years) but as long as they're comin' out like, I ain't gonna blab to the gendarmes! Quality on these English radio sessions and live performances are way better'n those nth generation tapes that have been flying around for years, and if you wanna hear the Stones not only in a rawer'n usual environment but at their prime long before they became THE WORLD'S GREATEST JOKE well, you can't do better'n this. As you'd expect there are some pretty exhilarating moments to be found within these...grooves??? but whatever you do, don't throw out all of those old Stones bootlegs just yet...howzbout givin' 'em to me!!!
***
For being a 21st Century production these Pills ain't hard to swallow. Not the Jymn Parrett Texas punk bunch (drat!), these guys (and gal singer) are Pills of a different nature...more like hard pop soft metal teenage rock that shoulda been bigger back inna seventies but hey, how could you sell a stoner box boy with terminal acne on a band like this? Mildly exciting music that does serve its purpose (whatever that is), and for being yet more fodder for the newer-than-new young hipster set or something like that all I gotta say that its...a lot better'n I thought it was gonna be!
***
I dunno if any of you female readers (do I have any???) will start sprouting succulent and ripe-looking suckems after doin' these exercises, but I get the feeling that most of you MALE readers would have enjoyed watching this famed glamour gal doing her knee bending and toe touching routines. Listen to that young and innocent voice with the sexy English accent give out instructions counting "one-two...now kick as high as you can!" while jazzy music straight outta some 1962 z-feature plays on. Now quick, rush to the bathroom and don't let anyone see you!
***
Another grab o' bag here with a number of good 'uns mixed with things that might be good enough but just don't appeal to my sense of digestion. F'rexample the Congress of Wonders comedy blackouts only reminded me of the unfunny tank that much comedy fell into back in the late-sixties (even MAD came off wittier) while a lotta the soul-y blooz-y stuff sounded like the saggy rejects they obviously were. Some good points include the Rolling Stones doing "Little Red Rooster" (not too sure, but is this some sorta alt-take Bill?) and the Cadets of "Stranded in the Jungle" fame doing a bright toe-tapped entitled "I Want You". Oddly enough my fave of the batch has to be this self-produced single from some band called Snak who do a fair Hendrix swipe on the a-side and a standard hard scronker on the flip. A good cross-section of something that was goin' on back in the more original and exciting past of ours...maybe you can tell me just exactly what that was.
***OK, I think I'm comin' down...lemme just stretch out here for awhile........
No comments:
Post a Comment
All comments screened to edit out spam, malicious mutterings regarding those associated with this blog or who I consider close friends, and anything relating to my personal, private life that frankly is none of your damn business! And if your posts will lead to back-and-forth tit-for-tat one-upmanship shouting matches that only go around in circles don't expect to see them here.