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The Blues

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Why I hate the blues...

I’ve always hated the blues, or at least any blues music produced after 1962. I never liked “slow hand” and if I have to sit through another open jam night at the local cracker-club, listening to “aircraft plant welders by day” and “drunken blues murderers on the weekend” crank out hours or standard, three chord progressions, I’ll never listen to music again.


That’s really my biggest problem with the blues, white people. I’m not saying that white people don’t have or face some difficult times in their lives, but they have never experienced anything to sing the blues about. At least not in the way the pioneers of blues did.


Perhaps I shouldn’t compare the two. Perhaps I shouldn’t attend “blues night” at the cracker barrel. Perhaps I just hate blues music. Perhaps my mother didn’t love me and I’m frustrated because I can’t grab a guitar and belt out the blues the way the forefathers of the craft did. Perhaps I overuse rhetorical questions.



Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster



—Riddle Me Rooster—


The answer to last weeks riddle was “The horse’s name was Friday”. Scott, (and amazingly CLT) nailed it, but Fundamentaljelly’s answer can’t be ignored. Therefore it’s a three-way tie. The lucky winners receive twelve day passes to the ‘Honkey Blues Festival’ in lovely Fayetteville, Arkansas.



Tonight’s riddle:


What’s glass, brass and kicks your ass?


Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!