Perpetuating the FRAUD

I went to the True Blues jam last night over on Beachside where I go most Wednesday nights.  It’s a good thing I had a Buddy Guy CD in my car cause there was no Blues being played by the 70s rocker wannabees holding court on stage. 

One young guitarist there might be a bluesman one day but he hangs with the pretenders.  If he would move into the bottoms for a little while and get some soul…well then, maybe.  Lucky for me there’s some old school players there that…well…we recognize one another. 

Tito Puente once said “you eat salsa, you dance the Mambo…”  Big Jeff says if you can’t do BBQ with that spice, if you don’t put that hot sauce on your greens, if you can’t play the blues with greasy fingers, then you just don’t know what it is.

My good buddy Jimbo Bob Billy Ray is a store bought, highly educated, independently wealthy, yankee and an indolent layabout, but he shops at and he can put the HOT SAUCE on the chicken.  He just shook his head last night leaving the club and said, “I needed some blues and I didn’t get it.  You should’ve played, Jeff.” 

I had car trouble in the back alley so I really didn’t respond, but I was thinking to myself that the pussy liar singing a Doors tune (in a Blues Club) on stage is one of those guys who could take a LesPaul and make it sound like a pencil sharpener.  What a waste of time.  He talks bad about everybody behind their back.

So I got my car started with help from Slim & Jim, went home and drowned my sorrows in Sweet and Sassy Salsa and started today with NO EXIT WOUNDS!  Praise God!


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