HOME SPUN WISDOM.
We don’t watch the CMA Awards anymore.
It’s all twirl and no Merle.
When trouble arises and things look bad,
there is always one individual who perceives a solution
and is willing to take command.
Usually that person is crazy.
I live in an area that used to have a lot of bands, piano bars,
and other live entertainment.
Now about ninety percent of the places are automated
with canned music, karaoke, or TV.
The singers, waitresses, bartenders, and club owners are still there. Still happy.
Can you find who is left out of this picture?
Misty makes all the small decisions, like buying a house or car,
and I handle the big problems
like world hunger, the ecology, and the possibility of life on Mars.
Jokes you can’t use anymore…
Let’s go into the darkroom and see what develops.
I was playing at a piano bar in Hollywood.
On a break, a woman at a table alone, called me over.
She motioned to me to lean down so she could whisper something to me.
She said softly “You think you’re so hot playing up there being the center of attention.
Well, I think your music stinks and I don’t like your hair.”
I jumped back and shouted “FIFTY DOLLARS?”
Then SHE was the center of attention.
I’m gonna have to read my email more carefully.
I just donated $20 to Save The Rich.
You can not sneeze with your eyes open.
Nature’s way of keeping our eyeballs from flying out.
We don’t usually discuss politics with strangers,
even when offered candy.
I had a perfect record:
I never worked anyplace I could go back to.
I don’t think the charity of the rich can be depended upon.
This from MAYF NUTTER:
“I had to clear out my closet
so my mother-in-law would have a place to hang upside-down and sleep.”
I want to get so rich I can live in the world’s most expensive trailer,
dine on roast mink with gold sauce,
donate my organs to the Republican party,
and hire an illegal immigrant to write my songs.
All of us piano players have been replaced by canned music now,
and although I know that change is inevitable,
I still complain.
The new air conditioner is working fine.
Before we got it Misty put a big floor fan in the kitchen doorway
to blow some cool air back to me in the studio,
to prevent me from going naked in front of the dog.
Young people are wearing their pants around their knees,
saluting the flag with one finger, and having more sex than we did.
Soon they will run the world unless we are allowed to hunt them.
To those who have never paid much attention to country music,
all country singers sound alike.
To some of them we all sound like Willie Nelson.
There are people who are good arguers,
and they jump at every opportunity to show off the facts, figures,
and “history” they have either gained second-hand or made up.
Money does not disappear.
It just changes hands,
and maybe leaves the country altogether.
Music killed my uncle.
He was trying to play “Flight of the Bumblebee” on a tuba,
and blew his liver out the horn.
I got this from a friend in Buffalo last Winter:
“It’s bitter cold with strong winds and blowing snow. Nothing to do.
My wife has just been staring through the window all day.
If it gets any worse I’ll have to let her in.”
A lot of jazz musicians are key snobs,
and like to play in difficult keys to show off,
who only have to move up or down a fret to drive the piano guy crazy.
Musicians that can play three chords
don’t like those who can play four chords.
In ancient Rome they said this about the new year:
“I can’t believe it’s 4 BC already!
In four years it will be Nothing!
I can’t believe how fast the years are subtracting!”
When the DEEP TURTLE crawls over sneezy garden walls,
And the stars begin to snicker in the sky,
A bar mitzvah in memory, cucumberectomy,
Breathing chow mein with a sigh ah-ee ah-ee, whoa yeah.
My self-help books:
“Learn Magic: Pull a Flaming Rabbit Out of Your Pants”
“Neuter Your Pet with Common Kitchen Utensils.”
“Appear Taller by Clenching Your Foot Muscles.”
“Teaching a Ferret to Whistle.”
“Drive Without Your Glasses.”
This is either an old map or we’re in Carthage.