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Saturday, August 15, 2015

Hoo Boy


Forty-seven seconds. I guess Pavel had to get to his concrete apartment block before curfew. Maybe the commies were rationing notes back then. Maybe Pavel couldn't sing for more than a minute without passing out because all he had to eat that day was a cube of suet, a slice of bread cut on a bandsaw, and a shot glass of sour acidophilus milk.

You must admit, though; it's forty-seven seconds of concentrated awesome. Buddy Holly wasn't a musician. He was a savior sprung from Eisenhower's fivehead descending from the heavens in a Cadillac chariot pulled by Sun records. .

2 comments:

chasmatic said...

The band members were dressed real nice;
They all ended at the same time;
The audience was well behaved;

Gosh, Sipp, I'd give it an eight. It had a good beat and you could dance to it.

Sam L. said...

Barkeep, I'll have whatever Mr. Sippi there was havin'. That sure did sumthin for him.