It is downright otherworldly out there. Outside with the dogs for a brief dogs-kill-the-cardboard-box-then-human-cleans-it-all-up interlude, it’s easy to imagine things just burning, drying into dust. Over 100 degrees here in Nashville yesterday, after a July full of August weather; high temps consistently above 90. More of same today. Wow. Texas summer in Tennessee. The neighborhood crime listserve is busy busy busy–and so go the cops: another few back doors kicked in, flat-screens and laptops vanished, another kid pulls a pistol, collecting wallets and cars with fear as his currency, stolen Volvo ditched in the alley, an 11 year-old with one shoe on who has run away after having it out with Mama. Down to the animal, the wild; sluggish, desperate, and thirsty. Yesterday a woman at the post office counter beside me was giving the clerk all kinds of hell, for no reason that I could tell other than maybe after noticing that Jorge was of Latin American ethnicity, was therefore pissed off by some imagined language barrier, where there was none. She was over-enunciating her words loudly, as if being heard was the problem. She had brought in a box with no tape, no address, and tossed it on the counter. She had started putting Priority Mail tape all over it before Jorge could explain that if she used that tape, her box had to go Priority, instead of “the cheapest way possible”, as she so vehemently desired. She then ripped the tape off the box, and asked for directions to the nearest UPS Store. (She might drive to the UPS Store, but she will not find free tape or free packing assistance there, either.) In my art business I will spend hours meticulously packing something at home so it’s READY TO MAIL, then drive to the p.o. to stand in line for a minor eternity behind a person such as this, who has a list of extreme demands yet not a clue, delivered with an attitude that’s 58 in the hips and bone-dense between the ears. Before taking her toxic fit on down the road, when said customer overheard the clerk helping me (I was paying my box rent) say “crowville?”, she mocked the clerk’s voice (who happens to be African-American) . . . “crow, ville . . . crow, ville”. I held back, didn’t move, or say a word, beginning to think this was a medical issue; though I did look at Travina as if to say “WTF?”. To her credit, she acknowledged nothing. People get freaky in the heat. Have a great day!
As I announced yesterday on facebook, twitter, and reverbnation, “Salvage and Drift, Vol. 1” is now for sale on the site (kevingordon.net). More details there, or in my previous post here. Basically, 12 previously unreleased tracks, 100 1st edition copies, all hand assembled/packaged, each numbered and signed. When these 100 go, I might offer an “open” edition that’ll be more of a manufactured, mass-produced thing. If you want to send a check, email us at: firstname.lastname@example.org we’ll hold one for you for 5 days to allow for your payment to get here. It’s been less than 24 hours since they went on sale, and more than half have already been sold. Thank you!
Upcoming shows in Johnson City TN, Columbia SC, and Myrtle Beach SC. Shows just added include Memphis on Oct. 10 and Oxford MS at the Lyric Theater on September 17.