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Vance’sMondayAcousticPajamaParty #132 - YOU GAINED AN HOUR, NOW WHAT?

I'll loosely keep this about time. Recent losses got me thinking how I spend mine...

When: Monday nite 11/7, 7:30ET (doors open @7 for community hang)


WHO GETS 10%: The Boston Alliance of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Youth, is a youth-led, adult-supported social support organization, committed to social justice and creating, sustaining, and advocating for programs, policies, and services for the LGBTQ-plus- youth community. or or
a check to VanceFunder P.O. Box 17,
Arlington, MA 02476 for this web-groovery.
Pay or not, up to you. Let’s stay connected.

This week's pyjamas - coozee

NEW ALBUM. Donate any amount = name on the cover. Sure there’s still time. Same links above, note “VanceFunder”. Any amount over $1 works, but $1000 -plus- makes you an exec producer, name in heavy black font.



My song.
I have nothing else for you. This week I lost 2 of these. Don Srull I have gone into detail about before on these pages. Dan Driscoll’s passing was one of those crazy one month later pancreatic fucking thief cancer shocks. Brilliant model builders flyers both.
I got nothing left else but the song itself.

I was such a strange boy
Forty years or so back then
Fat with big thick old glasses
Trouble making friends
Cruising thru my neighborhood
Could easily come to no good end
Till I wondered into the workshops
Of old, white men

“Call your mother. You can stay”
That’s about all they’d ever say
Then they’d lift the top
Off some old wooden box
Where inside lay some gem
Made of string and springs
And wood and glue
Right then and there I’m sure I knew
Firsthand the raw ingredients
Of old white men

Old white men
Get teary eyed December 7th
Old white men
Salute every flag they see
Old white men,
Didn't care how cool I couldn’t be
“A drop of glue will do to
Help it mend
Put the cap on when you’re thru” said
Old white men

It was all ball peen hammers, calipers
Dovetail joints and acetone
Tubes and printed circuits
Screws and spokes and wheels
The difference tween truth and opinion
When you’re old enough, be sure to vote
And never trust a woman
Wearing more than 3 inch heels

Old white men
Living crosscut, chainsaw lives
Old white men
They don’t talk back to their wives
Old white men, thanks to them
I can sharpen your kitchen knives
With a stone
Some times when I’m alone
I wonder what became of
Old white men

Do they synchronize their watches
As on and on time marches?
Do their belts need extra notches
As their waistlines grow big & ‘round?
I call their wives up often
And I carry their husband’s coffins
As these grey hairs of my own
Chase me down

Over the I outgrew
My awkward situation
Went to college, joined a cause
Became the Blackman I never was
And over those years I learned to view
Old white men with suspicion
I’d heard the world was run to ruin
By old white men

Last Friday I was hunched over
My Briggs and Stratton mower
Trying to adjust the carburetor
When this kid come bendin’ my ear
Always bugging me when I’m working
So I say “Make yourself seem useful son
Clean the carbon off that sparkplug
Wipe it down and hand it here.”

Old white men
Look me squarely in the eyes
Old white men
Looked right past my skin
Old white men,
I can hear them oh so clearly
“Are you gonna just stand there
With that sanding block
Or make it so these pieces fit again??”