Just dig out an old Traffic album. Hey! It's Friday! You get the scotch, I'm headin' for the tequila.<br><br>Shall we all meet for hangovers in the morning? I'll wear my spikes. <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>[color:blue]My my baby blue . . .
In the late 60s/early 70s I used to go with my Dad to the bowling alley every Monday night because he bowled in a league. Both alleys we went to, Fiesta Lanes and Bowlerland, are now in ruins awaiting demolition. Fiesta had a cool gigantic Vegas-style neon sign out front. I learned how to bowl pretty good hangin' out there. Nice place to meet girls who also come with their parents for league night. <br><br>My first "real" job my freshmen year at high school was that of a "floor man". Basically I cleaned up spills on the lanes and worse...vomit. "Floor man, clean up on lane twelve!", ah I remember it well. I eventually moved up the ladder and was taught how to unjam pins in the incredibly dangerous machines that picked up and reset the pins. I almost got killed on a nightly basis. There was a dingy little room behind the machines were I would await the loud speaker to scream at me which machine was jammed. The night I got fired I had propped my feet up because it was slow and the sound of the rolling bowling balls lulled me to sleep. My usually drunk boss came in and yelled "What the f_ck are you doin', yer fired!" I remember the relief and saying, "Thank God!" and peeling out of the parking lot in my '66 Olds Cutlass convertible with Deep Purple blasting from my 8-Track player. That oughta date me! It was around '75.<br><br>Next would be a two year stint in the fast food industry until I got a "dream job" designing t-shirt art. All cut and paste with hot wax and stat cameras. I created one of the first Bad Company pot leaf t-shirts. Such a proud moment...<br><br>Anyway, we have one new, all-electronic bowling alley now. Not the same though. I never did like keeping score with those overhead projectors and grease pencils so I do like that part of the upgrade.<br><br><br><br>
Winwood did some pretty good solo stuff. My fave was Arc of a Diver. Lyrics made zero sense, but back then, who cared?<br><br>OH! I'm sure you know ~ our man made the ballot. Why the hell not? How hard can it be? And poor ol' Grandma, the judge wouldn't even hear her case. Chris Bell said she'd turned herself from a character into a caricature. Ohhhhh, and I hear y'all's mayor won't be running again. Interesting . . . .<br><br>Ain't Texas politics fun sometimes? <br><br><br><br><br><br>[color:blue]My my baby blue . . .
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