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Personal Note:

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Tonight I walk alone
For no apparent reason
I have friends who care for me
But I had to get out of the bar
I couldn’t stand the band (and I was in it) and the smoke 
Was choking me

Outside under the neon lights of the 
“South Side Bar” I look up and wonder
What has this gig brought me?
A brief moment in some frat boy’s memory
He will share and enhance to impress his fat boy 
Buddies in their button down shirts and top siders
Punch drunk and full of cheap cocaine they bought from 
Some guy named Raul at the Rum Boogie.

They’ll stagger down Beale Street knowing nothing about the blues 
Except that it comes in their daddy’s credit cards and Beamers
And tie dyed shirts bought at the Peace Frogs boutique.
They will walk down to the river and smoke a fat one headed
For a Wide Spread Panic show on Mudd Island.  
The perfect evening of frat boys playing for frat boys pretending to be the Grateful Dead.
Trying ever so feebly to live in the past and be in the present.  What a joke.  Do the hippie dance…sway from side to side, shake your head and grow the hair on your legs and underarms.  So cool yet such a stench of human waste.

It ain’t fair.  It ain’t right.  It just is.  And that’s the way it’s going to stay.  Cause money can by coolness and cars, but it still can’t buy me.
So I light a smoke and head another direction.  There’s a great BBQ joint about four blocks up and they serve white people.  At least ones that show respect.

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