Retreat from Memphis

The pandemic has all of us on our fucking heels, it does.  Even if it didn’t cause you to lose your income, it either makes you limited to your residence (however limited in size, or not) or desperate for human contact and time outside, especially as the weather is becoming nicer.

We are extremely fortunate to be able to work from home, and although I have commandeered a big chunk of the dining room table while I do so (Wife Sublime has a dedicated office) we are still not aggravating each other to the point of this:

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That was a guy up the block from us who had taken his wife hostage with a gun.  I fear this will become more and more common as time goes by, and close quarters create high tension, and there are far too many households with hard weaponry.

But that is not what I am hereI am here to  to talk about.  I’m here to talk about the draft. Wait.  Let me get a new drink.

I am here to talk about music.

Our last concert was March 5, at the Pabst Theater. They Might Be Giants, and even then I was starting to be concerned about the large numbers of people.  It was however, a great show.

Not long after that, we were scheduled to go to Costa Rica on a tour, and two days before, the tour company canceled all trips.  I was a bit relieved, I admit, because while I was concerned about the travel environments of airports and airborne death tubes, I was more concerned that during our trip, Trump would lock us out.

Not long after that, the NBA shut down.  A friend and I had tickets for Tame Impala at the Forum, which has been rescheduled.  We had tickets for the Mountain Goats, which has been postponed.  We also had tickets for Roger Waters, and he rescheduled his entire tour for next year.  All of our typical theater has been canceled.

Almost all of the ethnic festivals that happen in our summer are being canceled.

But the crowning jewel in our summer festival schedule, has been ostensibly rescheduled for several weekends in September  You and I, let’s just roll the fucking bones whether that happens or is canceled.

So, for the foreseeable future, this blog is likely to see nothing happening, no action below the belt, as Langford says during one episode of the weird as fuck tape Mekons New York.

It is very weird to look forward to no actual shows.  Some of my musicians are putting shows on from their living rooms basements, and totally vacant stages online.  I applaud them.  But it’s not good enough.

It will be a while, I guess, before I have better updates hereabouts.  But there is not real idea when that might be.

Be well. Be safe.  Stay home.


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