You Can't Go Home Again Or Can You No Maybe Not Part. 6

First, to answer a burning question: I don't read the obits everyday. Spending most of my waking hours in front of a frikkin' computer I see a lot of stuff; too bad none of it helps me in my day-to-day life. The stuff I come across is usually put out there by obsessives which whom I share some pathetic commonality.

Now - all of a sudden I'm getting all these e-mails adding me as a friend / acknowledging my existence / sniggering at me in corners / tsk'ing ever so audibly regarding my recent enrollment to "Facebook".

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I only joined because my daughter said "if you ever want to see your grandson again, you better join because that's the only way you can obtain photos of him". So I did. And now she's dangling this carrot in front of me. Well guess what? They closed the expensive child store in my local niche-mall. So THERE.

I have no idea what facebook does. I have a feeling it's not like sleeveface, which is a shame.

I only joined this stupid world of blogging because of something similar; I can't even remember exactly what it was now, but it was something related to upcoming grandkid stuff. Now he's here & I have to join Upromise & Facebook.

What's next, Twitter?

This past weekend was my possibly last Hamtramck Blowout. How disappointing can it be when the best thing you see is The Polish Musllims? Gawd, it was hopeless. Although it may just be that I was in the wrong place at etc. First at Paychecks there was this band who came off as a poor copy of a Foals/Rapture/Joy Division tribute band. Except they sucked. I think they were called Red China, and everyone knows if you have a blue tablecloth, forget it. I even saw Troy Gregory from The Witches high-tail it out of there after a few minutes. So after that, it was on to Carbon which I've not been to before, and The Polish Musilms had all their fans there, and there are a lot of them because everyone goes to catholic church fund raising festivals. Honest to shit they were the best thing all night. And that includes The Detroit Cobras at K of C. You wanna talk about phoning it in? The most innovative thing about The Cobras was leader Rachel Nagy's stupid dye job that apparently required constant attention because she fiddled with the bangs throughout the entire set. And yeah, let's talk about that set. Now I know they're a covers band of a different stripe - like, they have to have never heard the song before to include it in their repertoire, as long as they found it on Motown or Fortune or Federal or some other R&B label. But after getting the chords correct there is nothing further they put into it. I was ready to make that long miserable trip back to the pad after 5 minutes. This was apparently what I was gearing up for all week. And I missed out on Pinkeye with John Sinclair (the band not the condition), because it just seemed to not quite fit (back to Paychecks for 15 minutes before The Cobras), and maybe that was my big mistake. I didn't even make the usual after hours scene at the Clock.

No, I'm not getting too old for the "new" kids. I find lots of great sounds coming out of today's music. But my thirst for a certain level of quality, or even irony, is in tact. What if Detroit's 2nd wind may now just be flatulence?

Speaking of which I did get some new underwear this weekend. So that was a plus.