Relaxin' at Camarillo

Zoot Alors!

Now this really is forcing the issue... Last night, Le Massif Central were approached to do a nicely paid one-hour gig at a cocktail party in a Frank Lloyd-Wright house. Of course we said yes, even though we haven't played together since June, and then to an audience of eight people and two dachshunds, which meant that 20% of our audience that night were sausage dogs. Fortunately, the date is not until April 17th, so there's plenty of time to practice. It's a shame we haven't replaced our amps since they floated off on an effluent swell last month or we'd get going straight away. Instead, I'll start thinking about a set list that doesn't comprimise our pretend-French-existential values. It may be a swanky cocktail do, but Massif Central always dress to depress.

I Plink therefore I Am

There's light at the end of the tunnel... Yesterday, I spontaneously picked up a guitar and plinked out the first few notes of "White Christmas," then briefly mulled over harmonizations to "Chestnuts Roasting." As it looks as if I may be working my way up to getting back into it, I've decided to buy some new gear as there's no better way to force the issue and affirm a hobby than by throwing cash at it. In addition, I think my rekindled passion for fiction may soon be about to sour, as I've just started Pynchon's new novel and already I'm looking 'round for things to do. By the way, my very dashing and clever old-world chum Charlie has started to blog the reviews he writes here. It's nothing to do with jazz, but then neither is this anymore. It should, however, get your chestnuts roasting.

Giving up (by accident)

I'm going through one of those periods of unintentionally abandoning guitar. It always happens when I go away, and instead of missing it terribly, I'm too distracted to miss it at all and then I get out of the habit entirely. We went to Boston for a while and even though we've been home for two weeks, I haven't picked the guitar up once and have returned instead to my first love, reading. I'm  not particularly worried about it, as consuming myself with guilt is the sure-fire way to turn playing into a chore. Instead, I'm planning - at some indistinct time in the future, but definitely before Christmas Eve - to get a few Christmas songs together starting with "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire." Ding-dong!