Old Garden And More

Announcing OLD GARDEN
I have a new song, "Old Garden", which is a work-in-progress, and is the second version as a work-in-progress is what it is, and I'm nevertheless awfully proud no matter what nobody says:

http://www.archive.org/details/OldGarden2work-in-progress3.12.11

In the first part I took where I first sang the song into a cheap $30 recorder, process it, then I return later with more words and also add electric guitar throughout, and finally, some sound editing all around. Bingo, my vegetables au gratin are done, that is, they're done enough to be a work-in-progress, at least as far as my tastes are concerned. Is this song in limbo then? I do not even know, it may be done, in a sense anyway.

Unfortunately, the song has an earthquake reference among its few lyrics, purely coincidental, so already it's born with ten strikes against it for sounding like pandering to the tragedy of the moment. Or, I have the delightful alternative of representing myself as having come up with this half-an-hour before the Japanese earthquake, which appears to be the situation, or at the very least, I was not aware of any earthquake when I came up with it. I think there was an ad about how long some product retains its usefulness, so I had to sing about the earth outliving its usefulness, which led me to the part where the ground shakes as an example. Oh yeah, I wanna be saddled with selling the idea that I was first, ahead of the actual earthquake. Probably I'll come back to this after the dust has settled, no one is thinking about earthquakes, you know, then I'll refine the song a bit, kind of slide it over to Paul (M) and/or Eric (C), they can grab something off it, the rest will be history. Nothing new to me - just scan these here blogs. I know what's happening, baby.

A Bleep Is As Good As A Bloip To A Deaf Horse
Do you remember that movie, "After The Fox," specifically, the scene where Peter Sellers is talking to a beautiful woman while the voice of a cigar-smoking fat man seems to come out of her, because a cigar-smoking fat man is at the next table, his back turned and so disguising the fact that he is speaking with Sellers, meanwhile the beautiful woman somehow knowing exactly how to lip sync to the words of the cigar smoker even when responding to Sellers' questions? Well, anyway, that may perhaps be a partial explanation of why I think I might be in some kind of strange communication to some degree with some kind of cigar-smoking Peter Sellers or two, or, no, I think I'm Peter Sellers in this one. Once again, I shall keep further details apart from the world, and not feel a drop of guilt as you're busy anyway and it wouldn't be worth it.