Mick Jagger

Mick Jagger turned 78 on Monday, July 26. Seventy fucking eight.

His net worth is estimated to be $360 million. My net worth is estimated to be deeply in the red. Mired there for all eternity.

He's doing better than me.

It hurt me to admit to my oldest and dearest friends that I am still working part time, when we got together on Monday. I felt like a fucking chump. They are all retired. This suggests that they worked the angles, they got life right; I looked left when I should have looked right. I got drunk when I should have been sober, I was sober when I should have been drunk.

Maybe if I had met my spiritual mate on a train, as Mick did with Keith, my life could have been different.

Do you know this story?

Mick and Keith met in school at a very young age, they rode tricycles together, but ended up going to different schools at some point.

One day..............a very specific date - October 17, 1961 - Keith walked onto a train carrying his guitar, Mick was on the train with 2 records under his arm. Rockin' At The Hops by Chuck Berry, and The Best of Muddy Waters. They recognized each other, realized they had mutual musical interests and..................you get it.

I love - absolutely worship - the randomness of the seeds of greatness. This shit happens somewhat randomly, but not really. It fucking had to happen.

I could tell you the story of The Beatles coming together, but today is not the day.

Mick and Keith would put a band together in 1961 along with Brian Jones and kaboom kaboom kaboom....ladies and gentlemen The Rolling Stones.

It is 2021. They are still rocking.

My heart leans toward Keith because he is the kind of man I'd like to be. BUT Mick is a god.

He made The Stones "The Stones" over the 10 year period that Keith was doing heroin. Mick managed everything. Every little fucking thing.

Beyond that - he is the ultimate showman. The quintessential frontman; lead singer - focus of attention.

And he learned to play guitar so he could contribute more to the band. Imagine taking on guitar in a band featuring Keith Richards and Brian Jones, and eventually Mick Taylor and Ronnie Woods.

Are you fucking kidding me?

He plays a mean harmonica too.

Love the man.

Every time I hear some brainless shithead mocking The Stones, saying they are too fucking old to be doing what they are doing - I want to eviscerate them. 

The Stones have too much pride - they wouldn't keep doing what they are doing if they could not fucking deliver. They have pride in themselves and pride in the music they play, which is deeply rooted in the blues.

Happy Birthday, Mick.

You deserve everything you got. You earned it.

And you still make me smile and bob my head and tap my foot and sing along.

Those are the moments I live for, baby.

Working To Die

He was "at work". "Working for a living."

Working to die.

He slammed his fist into the plastic (everything is plastic these days) paper towel dispenser in the men's room, which was the only room he could escape to and be himself without putting on a fucking act.

It made a satisfying "boom", loud, and sure to grab the attention of anyone close by, but he realized it accomplished nothing, except to release his suffocating anger - temporarily. But it was a damn good boom and a satisfying transer of anger.

The best part was the fact that the mirrored door that housed the "medicine cabinet" mounted right next to the dispenser, opened up every time he punched the towel dispenser. It was so fucking entertaining.

So he did it every time he went to the bathroom. 

Boom. Fucking boom. Mirrored door easing open.

He wished the "medicine cabinet" was stocked with cocaine. Pot. Opioids. Anything that would grease his way through the day.

But of course everything in 2021 is sanitized. That is why life is so boring. That is why suicide is a national sport, which should be featured in the Olympics.

You watch the fucking weather report and they give you tips on how to deal with thunderstorms.

Are you fucking kidding me?

This is why he wears cargo pants.

This is why he sneaks booze into work.

Smarter than the average bear.

Everyone Else Has Retired

Banner day yesterday.

Got together with 4 guys I went to high school with. We graduated 49 years ago. Three of them I saw a couple of years ago. Ed I haven't seen in over 20 years.

We met at Jim's new house which, thankfully, is only 1/2 hour from my own. Jim is building the house with his son and others. Spectacular. Wood everywhere. Beautiful deck, beuatiful location in the woods. 6.5 acres. Peaceful. Scenic. Quiet.

We sat on the deck and talked, laughed and reminisced. Spectacular.

All four of them are retired. Dave was to be the fifth attendee, but he lives in Virginia and could not make it up. He is also retired.

The talk of work came up, I told them I work part time and Barry said "You're still working?" Not maliciously or condescendingly or judgmentally. He is my friend; he would never do that to me.

He was genuinely surprised. As am I.

These were the guys I hung with in high school. I had a different set of guys I hung with in college but all of them - both groups - lived in Winthrop.

I was much closer to my high school friends. These friendships endure.

Talk of health was disturbing. Every single one of us is dealing with or has dealt with major health issues. Wives included.  Cancer most prominent, of course. Ed wears hearing aids, Bobby wears hearing aids. Bobby was wearing a cast on his left wrist after a recent operation; as soon as that heals the right wrist goes under the knife.

Ed's got the worst of it, I think. He is dealing with cancer that has affected his lungs and left spots on his brain. He looked and sounded pretty good yesterday.

Ed came with his dog Lucas. Jim has a dog named Oscar. It was soothing to have them around.

Talk of health problems was prominent in the conversation which depressed me, but that is where we are in life. Sucks. But we did talk about life in general, the stupidity that is America today and, of course, we resurrected many high school memories. 

We were a rowdy bunch. Loved to party. We didn't just love insanity, we were insanity. So there was a lot to laugh about. Many stories. Many names bandied about that have not crossed my tongue in decades.

We were so well behaved. This was a drinking crowd back in the day. We started yesterday drinking water. Eventually everybody had 1 beer, I had a small amount of whiskey. The effects of age and benefits of wisdom abounded.

We talked about getting together again in September.

I sincerely hope it happens.

Be Careful

 "To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

Oscar Wilde

Attitude

One of the many things I loved about The Allman Brothers was their attitude.

They oozed attitude. Projected it. Lived it. Delivered it.

I connected with them over that. 

I have lived a strange and incomprehensible life; I projected a practiced image of a nice guy, Mr.Responsible, doing the job and paying the mortgage.

But inside I am essentially evil. Actually, evil is a bit of overkill. I guess I would say I think dark thoughts, enjoy dark things, hate fucking rules, love doing anything that others would judge as insane.

I don't do much of that anymore because there ain't nobody left to run with anymore.

But I am not here to whine, as I usually do. It is what it is.

My point is Allman Brothers lyrics connect with me. Heard Wasted Words yesterday. A taste:

"Well I ain't no saint and you sure as hell ain't no savior, every other Christmas I would practice good behavior, that was then, this is now, don't ask me to be mr. clean, baby I don't know how."

And of course No One To Run With. A taste:

"Everybody wants to know where Jimmy has gone, he left town, I doubt if he's coming back home..........I'm gonna hit the road, adios, my friend, go someplace and start all over again.....................I think Jimmy must have had the right idea, packed his stuff and he got right out of here, I don't know where he's at but I'm sure that he's ok, now I realize what Jimmy was trying to say.........

Nobody left to run with anymore, nobody wants to do the crazy things we used to do before, nobody left to run with anymore"

The flip side - in the interest of fair and impartial reporting. Old Before My Time. A taste:

"You think you're a survivor but boy, you better think twice, no one rides for nuthin', so step up and pay the price...................don't look behind you, ahh don't look back, don't turn to find reason in the past, past is gone, gone at last....................it's a high cost of low livin', and it's high time you turn yourself around, well the high cost of low livin', it's bound to put you six feet in the ground."

Shit, man - better set me down and do some more reflectin'.

Yesterday and Today.

 The DJ early on Thursday and Friday mornings on Little Steven's Underground Garage on Sirius XM is Kelly Ogden.

On Thursday mornings she tells an in-depth story about something pertaining to rock 'n roll.

The Beatles released an album called Yesterday and Today in June of 1966 with a very controversial album cover.

It is referred to as the "butcher cover." The Beatles are dressed as butchers (white coats) and are covered with decapitated baby dolls and pieces of raw meat. Capitol Records did not want to release it but The Beatles were The Beatles, and they got their way.

It received a huge backlash and was eventually recalled. Capitol had to come up with new album covers, at great expense of course. I know in some cases they just slapped a new cover over the old one, but I don't know if they did this for all of the recalls.

It is a collectors item, big time. Some people had the original, some people managed to peel the new label off the original.

Sadly, I don't own a copy. But I did love it - it was pretty sick.

When forced to defend the choice, The Beatles said it was their commentary on Viet Nam, which was complete bullshit.

I know the story well and enjoyed Kelly's re-telling of it.

The best part of the story, which I knew nothing about, happened 30 years later.

According to Kelly, when George Harrison was asked about the album cover in 1996 he said "Some times we did things we thought were cool and hip but were really naive and dumb."

I love the honesty. It cuts right through the pretentious artistic veil.

We as consumers of art are supposed to automatically accept any weird thing an artist says or does as cutting edge stuff, rife with meaning, when sometimes all it is is pure bullshit.

Mr. Harrison always viewed Beatlemania cynically with a biting, sarcastic wit. I always loved him for that.

A Life in Four Lines

 John Webster Little

Born in Salisbury, NH, April 7, 1818.

Graduated at the Dartmouth Medical College in 1845.

Received the degree of D.D.S. from the Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery in 1868.

Died in Concord, NH on December 21, 1877.