Okay, I've been traveling all over doing what I love to do which is politics. I know, I know, I leave all of you without my wit and wisdom, but a guy gotta do what a guy gotta do, but time slows (or speeds) when deadlines are set and hotel rooms all look alike after a while.
Time for the music I had burst into my head somewhere just east of nowhere, a little south of I'm Lost Again and dap smack in the middle of no radio signal land.
Not The Rascals, not Rascal Flats, but the original blue-eyed soulsters THE YOUNG RASCALS!
Three Eyetalians and a WASP from Jersey, but no bass player. When I first started drumming I used to try to play and look like Dino Danelli, but I couldn't hold the sticks like him, I had kinky hair and I was fat. Oh well, I got better, lost a ton of weight and Jimi Hendrix occurred. Viola, I had a better chance at cool. That most of our audiences were stoned increased my odds dramatically. At least until they crashed.
