My rush of daily posts while in Ft. Myers, Margaritaville has sadly turned to trickle of thoughts spilt bi-weekly during stolen moments.  It’s 11pm on a Friday night and I’m about to write web copy for a high-priority project that got dumped into my lap. Client web copy usually isn’t in my job description at the office, but I’m happy to help out. It’s careerbuilding and it’s friend-helping. The start of the year is the busy season. Have to lend a hand when possible.

Half of Book of Blues was written in my head when a song popped on the radio while I was valet parking. The song would nurture a thought that would trickle into a story line or fit into a storyline I was thinking about.

Now that I’m escaping into Book of Blues Prequel, I find myself dial surfing on my radio while I go to work. I don’t get quite the time to dial surf because the drive to work is only 8-12 minutes, pending on the lights I hit. It used to be 28-35 minutes (yeah, i number crunch my drive to work so i can maximize my free time 🙂 ). I’m not complaining ’bout the commute. Most people dream of being only 8 minutes from the office while still working a career job – especially during sh*tt y economic times that are the offshoot of the embellished, arrogant greed of Wall St.

— Guilt-inspired rant aside. In addition to the commute to the boat I’d spend hours inside of customer cars at the boat, getting inspired by the spectrum of music. From 3am NPR blues and jazz sets to the techno-dance audio retail, I heard quite a bit. I had the drive time. We dealt in volume at the boat. We had a quarter-mile drive one-way as well. And when we’d be in the closing phase of the night and giving the customers their cars back, I had a 250-yard jog / walk (pending the rush) to think about the story line and the song within.

I don’t get to do it as much now. Our office’s network is patchworked because we’re moving to a fine, fine facility in about 10 months. I can’t use streaming audio and I can’t get radio reception. I could use the pandora radio app on my iphone 3g, but eventually they’d notice. Though, the 3G has finally made it’s way to Valparaiso. H’mm…And, if you’re wondering, using songs on an MP3 player doesn’t work for me because I put the songs there, I’ve heard them before. I know there’s a finite selection. But when I’m listening to the radio, someone else decides. I don’t know what song is next (because i don’t listen to top 40 :-p).

In the cars, at the trailer, even the satellite radio stream in the boat’s PA, music was everywhere. I make up for that now by having headphones on all day, even when I get up and go talk to someone or go to another department. I got used to having music on at work.

Anyway, one of the more enjoyable things I got to do while hearing the sounds at the boat do was to play around with that mass media and fine arts class knowledge i accumulated and twist the morals to songs.

Take this song below:  “Oh How Happy,” as performed by Shades of Blue (a band name I take as a sign that I’m on the right path). Written by Edwin Star (“War, Huhh, Good God, y’all…” ), a Motown Legend… A sweet song that got motown-gospelized by this British Band.

Oh, the ways you can twist this song.

And, no, changing the lyrics doesn’t count. That’s cheating. I have an idea for it on the Book of Blues Prequel. For now, back to day jobduties.

WOW – speaking of freaky…I have a scene in Book of Blues Sequel with the song below and I was just now thinkin’ about swapping it  with the Edwin Starr song above. Come to find out that the song below was also performed first by Edwin Starr. Figure that one out…hopefully, that’s a sign – if I believed in them.  This rare live version of the Edwin Star song. Most of use know this as a song by Blood, Sweat, & Tears, “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy”:

Fuggit. Here’s another rare japanese cut of Blood, Sweat, & Tears.

Man, if these dipsh*ts wouldn’t have broken up, they’d a been gods. Blood, Sweat, and Tears could have saved us from Disco.  They should have displaced the Eagles and Aerosmith.  But, now, we got stuck with Chicago as our jam band with horns.

Thanks, jerks.

I wish I had this singer’s voice. F*ckin’ killer. They go to town ‘live.

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