So yet another weekend in the biggish city. This time to attend a jazz festival. NPR Lady and I may have vastly different politics, but her taste in music uncannily tracks mine. And she has a mason jar stuffed with premium bud. If you don’t hear from me by Monday, send a search par… oh wait, no, don’t.

And birthdays track as well, today’s including a saint who swallowed; a decent and accomplished guy who is less famous than his daughter; a guy who should be more famous than Mark Twain; a guy who was the white Mike Tyson; a guy who’s the answer to the classic engineering question of, “What is butter worth to Chebyshev?”; a guy who will not make Old Guy Music, but perhaps should; a guy who was always steady; a piece of shit who did one good thing in his entire career; a guy who was truly the father of glam rock (and should have collected royalties from KISS); a guy who founded a band that had three great albums, then got popular; a pretty decent guitarist from the same era; a piece of shit who didn’t even do one good thing; and a vicious midget with outsized mendaciousness.

And with that, let’s Link.

 

Old story, but because the “no vegans” discussion yesterday, I thought it would be fun to read again.

 

Have we hit Peak Stupid yet?

 

This is how the movie Reptilicus started. Prepare to have Rochester stomped by a giant lizard.

 

The cover-up seems to get more desperate.

 

And what, exactly, would this accomplish?

 

They hid the lede: he’s going to work a grift as a “consultant.”

 

This is one of the guys we’re seeing tonight, and I’m stoked- Bill Frisell has always been one of my favorite guitarists. No flash, just pure music.