home for the holidays

Nice thing about not being home for the holidays is there’s a lot less stress. Pa Wetzel’s advice over breakfast: “You can’t win; don’t try.” He’s been married to Ma Wetzel for a long, long time, I trust what he says, sometimes. Went out and caught Sister’s act; that was fun. She did have to put in a plug for me, at the close of the show; I found that a little weird. It played to a packed house, literally a sell out crowd. Cast party was next — those actors and puppet manipulators really know how to party hard! I slammed a double cappuccino, and we all told Bush jokes. Then, we all joined one of the cast members at her other job: the Disney Store near Union Square. She took a break, and off the record suggested she would really like to pistol whip Minnie Mouse [sure, that name’s trademarked]. Wearing the same clothes all the time, waiting on her man. What kind of role model is that? Last night, the Leo rescued me, and dragged me off around San Francisco where we ended up at club called “Slim’s,” listening to American Music by the Blasters. Another friend showed up, and I was curious as to what kind of music we were listening to. The Libra suggested it was “Retro–Billy.” The Blasters have been around, in one form or another, for quite some time. And it’s supposedly roackabilly, from the LA area. So I guess Retro–Billy fits, and that’s a new term, first noted here. As far as the crowd goes, I’m sure I’m not clearly cool — hip — hot — whatever — to be a judge of that. Slim’s was an interesting musical space, but I’m just a hick from the sticks around here. I couldn’t quite figure out why they had Xmas trees hanging from the ceiling.