This blogging works. No sooner did I mention the Little Sparrow than one of my readers -- you know who you are -- Fed-ex-overnighted me the definitive, live, Piaf au Carnegie Hall (in 1956 & 1957) cd.
That, along with the bonus cd of Johnny (and June Carter) Cash she sent rounds out nicely the tunes being gathered for this road trip. My generous reader may not remember (couldda been within that 21-day (yes, I counted) period when she wouldn't speak to me) but back when she was in law school I went to see Mr. & Mrs. Cash out in Maryland. Had to sit through a horse show first -- alotta jumping -- was this pre- or post- Superman's broken neck? -- can't remember -- then Johnny and June came out riding in a white surrey with a fringe on top and sang a nice selection of songs. Soberer times then, but weren't those the days?
Nephew D----, who thinks -- and is probably correct in so thinking -- that I should cancel this mortoring eastward thing and spend the summer surfing with him down at San Onofre and other spots along the Orange Coast, already gave me some CCR and alotta Jack Johnson for my days along the blue highways. When J--- M saw I was uploading Jack Johnson she said she didn't know I liked him, he not being Enrique Morales or a Los Lonely Boy or Michael Jackson -- my listening/dancing staples. Surpriseamundo. There are alotta things about me not generally noticed by the general public. But they're no less true for not being noticed. Hey, my tastes are ecclectic. I like Snoop Dogg and Vestal Goodman. Yeah. I'm bipolar. And the only thing I'm missing from JJ is the soundtrack to Curious George. I'll rip that from someone's collection one of these days. Meanwhile, see George read.
Today's edition of separated at birth....
1 hour ago