Not here for a hookup

It’s been a brutal start to the Tinder year.  I’ve matched with a few women but nobody that really seems interested in dating me.  (or I, them)

I listened to a podcast called Sex With Emily in which a panel of six discussed the current state of casual sex.  (Their ages ranged from 23-41) Apparently, if one is reasonably good looking and relatively stable, having sex is as easy as swiping right.  These people are having so much sex – one of the guys says he tells his partners up front that he is not interested in any relationship outside of the bedroom.  He has never been with anyone longer than three weeks, yet he gets laid whenever he wants!

Wind the clock forward another 15 years to those that are my age and nearly every single profile comes with the disclaimer, not here for a hookup.  I guess they are there to make my life miserable.

We turn the page.

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Work hard, play hard

Happy New Year everybody!  The statute of limitations on New Years salutations, according to my watch,  has not yet expired.  That would be January 15th, OK?  If you’re still wishing people a happy new year on Martin Luther King Day then I’m going to have to have a talk with you.

I have been faithfully plodding along on Tinder, but truthfully I have almost zero interest in dating.  I feel like I’ve been getting things done musically, what with all of my increased time for practice.  The thought of having to go through first date exposition is too daunting to deal with.  I would have to prepare as if I’m taking an SAT.  Who has that kind of time and energy?

I still peruse dating profiles, however, and I have noticed a couple of tropes that I would like to comment on.  (I mean besides the preponderance of photos in scuba regalia.)

I had no idea that there were that many women criminals on Tinder.  I would estimate that 1/3 of the profiles I read state that [she] is looking for a partner in crime.  Since I’m not into crime I usually swipe left.

The other thing I’ve noticed is that many many women not only work hard, but play hard as well.  The thing is, I’m an adult.  I put away my Twister and silly putty years ago! I suppose you could talk me into playing a game of Monopoly or Scrabble but how hard can you play those games?  Do I need to take steroids to up my level of intensity?  YESSSSSSSSS, BOARDWALK!  IN YOUR FACE, LADY. 

 

 

Not enough work and no play makes me a dull boy

The past five years I have gigged more than I thought humanly possible.  I’m averaging five gigs a week, but there are weeks in which I work every night, and sometimes I will have doubles, plus the occasional triple. Throw in teaching and sundry other projects and it makes for a full schedule.  Not only that, I have to practice every day.

Last week I had three nights off (not in a row) which was a rarity.  You would think I would relish the free time.  Instead I practiced more, took care of some errands, and moped.

The dating sites I’m on are annoying me.  I never knew that so many women were into scuba diving.  I had my friend photoshop me into a scuba diving outfit but it did not help my traffic so I removed it.

The obsession with height confounds me, especially now that we’re into middle age. Why does height continue to matter so much to women?  You would think that by their 40s they would want more substantial qualities in a man, such as intelligence, to name one. By stating that they’ll only see people over 5’10” women have eliminated thousands of possible good matches.  They’re also increasing the chances of dating someone who is arrogant and feels entitled.  Tall men who are reasonably good looking never had to work that hard to get dates, consequently they never had to hone their humor skills, or even feign intelligence.

On the other hand, height aside, I’m not such a great catch.  I work every night – the last thing I want to do on my night off is go out.  Plus, these aren’t corporate dollars that are coming in over here.  My apartment is a shoe box, and as I mentioned before, I’m moody.

Plus I don’t scuba dive.

Vestibules now!

Folks, here is concrete photographic evidence of a clear and present danger in the Bay Area: An alarming lack of vestibules.

When people observe jazz in their overcoats they are not enjoying the music – they are counting the minutes until they can be reunited with their heater. Head colds and gig-related illnesses are predicted to spike in future years.

Stop the madness. #vestibulesnow!

Just another night at the office

There are so many louts at our gigs that it’s hard not to go all Stockhomy and start liking them.  When your office is a dive bar expectations had better be low or you could go crazy from frustration and aggravation.

At last night’s gig there was ultra loud couple sitting in the booth right across from the band. This guy must have been the funniest thing since Sid Caesar because every ten seconds there would be an ear-piercing cackle from his date. He had this nasal voice that could penetrate the loudest decibel, like a knife slashing through butter. We could have been Led Zeppelin and you would have heard this guy.

Needless to say they stayed the entire night. After the gig I noticed they were making out in the booth so I decided to give them a taste of their own medicine. “GET A ROOM,” I screamed. Then I approached them: “How do you like it when I intrude on your business?”

Fight the power

People we stand on the precipice of a slippery slope: Adult connect the dots books have arrived and the world is a scarier place.

Are we going to allow ourselves to be infantilized by Big Coloring Book ™ or are we going to dig deep and find the resolve to act like adults?

 

https://instagram.com/p/4pXu8Pw2ig/embed/?v=3

 

 

 

 

In his cups

Yesterday somebody climbed Trump Tower using suction cups.  Who could have been so attention starved to have attempted such a stunt?

Singer’s choice

Imagine that you are a singer living in a world that has known composers such as Duke Ellington, George Gershwin, Jerome Kern, and Richard Rodgers. Now imagine that between these (and other) composers that there are hundreds, if not thousands of great songs to choose from. Finally, imagine that from this wealth of repertoire you select Van Morrison’s Moondance.

Pokemon Go-time

I have to say that this Pokemon Go game is really dangerous. Why, I was just playing it the other day when… [Flashback music]

I’m driving to the post office when I hear a beeping coming from my phone…a Charizard! I spring into action. I’m driving into oncoming traffic, onto the sidewalk, just missing pedestrians, and I end up crashing into the dry cleaner’s window.

The next day I’m playing the ap and all of a sudden I find myself in the ladies room. Of course everybody starts screaming, “What the hell are you doing in here, you sicko?  Get Out!”

“But there’s a Squirtel…”

“WHERE?!”

Everyone whips out their phones until we discover him cowering by the XLerator.

I’m really going to have to delete this thing. It’s just not saf…WAIT! There’s one by the PGE transfer station… To the Pokemobile!

 

 

2001: The Keitho Way

I’ve always felt that 2001 A Space Odyssey would have been a much better film had I written the screenplay. Take the dawn of man scene, for instance: (In my version the monolith talks.)
——————————–

Now let me tell you something you damn, dirty apes…you think you’re hot shit sharing that water hole with these warthogs and antelopes and that rival ape tribe? Well you’re not. If you puke-faced cro magnons would cut out your humble bragging for a second and listen to me, the monolith, you might learn something.

YOU! Yeah I’m looking at you, Moongazer. Grab that bone over there and USE IT AS A WEAPON. Now go kill an antelope and before you know it you will have invented the internet. And cook the meat, for Christs sake. What are you, a Freegan? COOK THE MEAT. How? Do I have to show you nimrods everything?! WITH FIRE.

Shit, I don’t get paid enough for this gig…