Tag: music

I’ve Got Spurs

636186

I’ve got spurs that jingle jangle jingle.
I wish I didn’t. Damn things are a dead giveaway for a cattle rustler.
They used to belong to a rancher, but he tried to catch me rustling his cattle and-
That’s right. I heard the spurs from a mile off.
They looked so nice, couldn’t leave them behind.
I should have sold them off, or dug a hole and buried them.
The Rangers have me pinned in this canyon. It’s night, but I can’t escape.
Bullet in my shoulder, bleeding slow.
I’ll die with my boots on.
And these damn, noisy spurs.

Lucy

636176

Lucy couldn’t wait to take the bandages off, but the doctors said she had a week to go before they thought her eyes would be safe to check.
Her eyes… her kaleidoscope eyes.
At first the colors and reflections of reality were exciting and mesmerizing, but the fascination ended quickly as she found herself completely helpless to perform the most simple tasks: reading and walking around.
Dr. Odd patted her shoulder.
“One more week,” he said. “How would you like to listen to some music, Lucy?”
“Sure,” she said.
And on cue, Billy Shears began to play out of tune.

Dancing in the Drunk

694184

Australians call it Waltzing Matilda.
Japanese call it Saki Hop Susie.
And the Jews call it Horah With Hierschel.
Let’s face it: you’re drunk, and you want to dance.
Feel the dance inside you. Let it rise through your pores and take control.
Good. Now you’re dancing.
If you feel your stomach gurgling, you can take a break. Just bend over and let it flow.
Until then, dance… dance like you’ve never done it before.
Just do me a favor, okay?
Dance over here in the parking lot. You’re holding up traffic out there in the middle of the road.

Strange Days

737748

Strange Days are here again.
Everybody’s been shopping for the Strange for weeks now, waiting for the days when the skies change and the world turns on end for what seems like forever.
The problem with the Strange Days is that you never know exactly how things will turn strange.
It makes it hard to shop, but folks don’t need much incentive to go nuts shopping these days.
Especially with Strange Days around the corner.
Are you ready for them?
You are?
Does this mean you know what the Strange Days will bring?
TELL ME! TELL ME!
TELL ME NOW!

Celloboe

675231

When I was young, I played the cello.
I was great.
Then, as I grew older, I played the oboe.
I stopped playing music for a while, but I decided at one point I’d take it back up again.
My old oboe and cello were in storage, but they’d been damaged from the years of neglect and abuse.
So, I tried to fix them in my workshop, and I ended up with a celloboe.
Sitting down, I took a deep breath, drew back the bow, and tried to play it.
Bad idea.
I get out of the hospital next week.

The Diva and The Devil

591211

I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I’m back.
And, by gum, do I have an opera!
Sold my soul for it.
Drop what you’re doing and meet me at the Old Opera House tonight.
I don’t care what it costs to do this. Put it on my tab and just get it all done, okay?
Bring musicians, instruments, singers, costumes, lighting, ushers, and caterers.
Bring the fat lady, too. We’re going to need her.
This’ll be bigger and better than the last one we did.
They’ll be packed to the rafters, paying anything… everything…
Just like me.

With Them

590728

I used to dance. But I don’t anymore.
For a while, I tried. But the braces on my legs were stiff and awkward.
Everyone smiled and was very supportive.
Too supportive. Like a spotlight was on me.
So, I stopped. And I stopped listening to music, because it made me want to get up and dance with it.
Maybe I can start a dance club, where I can teach others to dance. Or a dancehall where people can dance to my music.
I will dance through them.
And who knows? With medicine as it is, maybe with them some day.

Bum Rush The Charts

721925

I don’t make the music. I make musicians.
I can take any washed-up pampered drug addict, wrap them in spandex, and you can sponsor their next worldwide tour along with every other crappy light beer brewer.
People eat this shit up, so they need something to wash it down with, right?
And its not like we’ve got competition. Where you brew beer by the tanker truck, radio only has our crap to play.
It’s not payola. It’s… business.
Do we have a deal?
Good.
I propose a toast… what? Use your beer?
No thank you. I don’t drink your swill.

The Church Bells Of Jenin

745736

The soft-haired folksinger sat on his stool, strummed his guitar, and sang his sad tale of the church bells in Jenin.
Seven thousand miles away, the last of the churchbells was hauled down from its burnt-out tower.
The Christians had left months ago, driven out by their unneighborly neighbors.
Three masked men picked up the bell and smiled, hauling it to the foundry.
It was melted down into shell casings and bullets.
Weeks later, a paramedic pulled a bullet from a dead child’s chest.
He pulled another three from the child’s dead mother.
Murdered, by the church bells of Jenin.

The Dotted Line

761888

Diva Chandelier and the record company fought for years, but in the end her army of lawyers fell to the combined might of the entire music industry.
The facts were clear: she had defaulted on an exclusive billion-dollar ten album, five concert tour deal.
But what was worse was that she had taken to singing in public… for free.
“A contract is a contract,” said the judge from inside the record company’s pocket. “Judgement is for the plaintiff, the defendant will surrender her voice.”
Her last public statement before going into the clinic for forced cauterization was a profanity-laden curse.