J is for Jerk: All I need is this pigeon, Nevada nuke farm and inbred cat… that’s all I need….
Just back from another weekend in X—— Nevada at my friend’s ranch. Lots of hard work. Neither rain, snow, raging winds, sunburn, gourmet food and cheap-ass booze shall keep us from our appointed rounds. All within 48 hours.
Sagebrush clearing, last year’s Burn camp trash destruction, garbage sorting, bicycle repair and/or trash pile fixin,’ burn barrels, dog and horse crap clean-up plus the small town amusement of breakfast at The Eagles Lodge with the octogenarians on the third Sunday of every month.
All you can eat.
Not all you want to eat.
All you can eat.
And it ain’t much. The little old ladies are cool though.
Just got home. Have not checked the (surely) new 200+ emails yet. Opened the door and first thing I see is sheet music all over the floor. It had been on the piano top prior to leaving Friday.
If you are a musician you know what Cakewalk is. Great software! If you have crap notation skills on manuscript paper, dig buying $150.00 worth of extra equipment to use your ancient MIDI keyboards (love my D-10) to computer interface (answer to everything new according to the 1980’s… you Jerk), write string and brass parts, print out your tunes, create full orchestration, change said ENTIRE orchestration into another key without doing so manually you know what Cakewalk is.
Best part: Cakewalk is now owned by Roland –my old employer. Hence the D-10 I use along with my trusty old Yamaha DX-7, to compose with. Play the grand piano for recreation, love, singing and feeling/finding new tunes. The workhorse synths are to create orchestration and play gigs. Too many keyboards!
D’OH. Sorry J’OH.
Wait. Digressing. Again –sigh-
So I walk into the house with the luggage, see my newly printed sheet music everywhere except on the piano- the Cake Walk Connection- and begin yelling at Lizzie Borden. Obviously the hairball had been on the piano.
If you’re a regular reader you know that Lizzie is dumb as a box of a hair taped shut… but gorgeous and sweet. Damned Persian rescue kitty.
Suddenly, and I DO mean suddenly, as I’m swearing at Liz a F*CKING FLYING RAT comes at me.
Second time in three months.
Pigeon had gotten in though the fireplace. Same as last time I had JUST cleaned, swept, vacuumed, taken care of the fireplace area prior to anything such as this happening.
Winged rat pissed me off instead of scaring me this time.
Good thing is that I keep the rooms pretty much closed off –to keep the heating bills down- and the bastard had not flown outside the living room.
Being a musician my first thought –and scream- was ‘DID YOU B*STARD S**T ON MY PIANO?!
Lizzie Borden –feline detective and killer of nothing- was in the corner. Ignoring the damned pigeon.
Pro-Tip: Need a mouser or varmint killer? Stay AWAY from pure breeds.
In reality had a great weekend working and the f**king rat with wings in the living room was not so bad after thorns, blisters on my hands, sagebrush, black widows (no not me. this time), scorpions and vermin. Raised my (w)bitches broom to shoo it out right away.
I just have to re-orchestrate Mad World and print it out. Deleted like a Jerk prior to leaving for the weekend.
~Some Radioactive Rachael in Reno