Sunday, December 14, 2014
This is what happens when I try to share my talents with some one who I've been hanging onto as a platonic friend for a while in hopes he will help me get a cool job at the creative place he works at. Creative, indeed. So much for that job possibility. I should have known this would never pan out when he couldn't look look me in the eye the couple of times we met the first year I knew him. He learned later on where my eyes were, as well as the eyes of many other women I knew, but he is in his thirtysomethings, didn't he know better?
Monday, December 8, 2014
But seriously, can someone decide to be romantic enough to win me over? Treat me like a queen? Not complain when I play accordion too much? Play music all day, and drink all night?
Most hot women you see my age need some relief for this deep hankering. Maybe our apparent hotness just comes from keeping it all bottled up inside, waiting for the perfect burrito to splash our hot sauce all over. If we don't find that big, hot burrito, what's gonna happen to your hot sauce gals?
You had a bottle of hot sauce around for two long? You know what happens.
I hope that doesn't happen to me. Where's that burrito?
Saturday, November 22, 2014
I've always enjoyed reading this review of my former employer in a major industry magazine. It gives me a chuckle. Continued on the next page. This is from 2013.
I remember the man and his little notebook. I was playing accordion and explaining how it worked at the same time - no easy feat - and yet, I still saw him walk his little notebook to the bass section, where he was completely ignored. I was helping three people at the same time, answering all their questions. Even so, I tried to catch his eye.
Believe it or not, the staff denied the writer of this article ever came in the store. Over a furious, tear-stained hour they wrung their hands about the poor review. I allowed them to find it on their own, as if I had no idea of its existence. I wanted to see what would happen, it's true. No one ever reads this stuff there.
But this is what actually happened: they actually talked themselves into believing that he made up the article, right in front of my eyes. The fact that the man explained what I was doing while he was there might have told them otherwise, but no.The facts refused to be acknowledged.
I give them credit for caring in retrospect that they were too busy chatting with each other and the teachers that they couldn't even take on the guilt of ignoring him in the first place. That's some wackjob thinking. Ha ha ha!!!!
|Read Kline Music Article|
I assume if you can deny a review in a major industry magazine, it's no surprise that people these days can deny anything.