A couple of beers and you're offended...

A couple of beers and you're offended... Or things you shouldn't say sober while playing a record.

...I'm not drinking. That's what I tell him. I mean that's what I'll say. When he asks I'll say it. Or not.

It's not really the things you'll say. It's the things you'll do. I'm definitely not drinking a beer right now.

Maybe later? Maybe not. Why not?

Because the things you say aren't what you mean and things people mean to say are the things they'll never do. You have to love passive aggression.

But I'm not drinking a beer. I'm writing.

So, I'm listening to Sean Rowe. Not drinking. Writing. It's a writer's life for me? It's a life. A wonderful life. I'm not saying what I mean, but you get the point that I'm listening to music and writing. I'm writing about art this afternoon followed by a few people that I don't really know but might have met.

One person I don't know and haven't met is Sean Rowe but I have his new album spinning. It's the loveliest thing: a record. The best part about it being a record is that it was free because I asked for it. [*Thank you AntiRecords and Epitaph] It's a novelty because the only people who still have records besides moi are my DJ friends and the hipsters that are all snatching up records & players in the fear that they may soon leave this planet. People have been saying that for 20+ years now...

I continue to own records. I just picked up a new one, Sean Rowe, for free.

And I'm still not drinking.

Back to the art that should be free. It is free. Sort of and not really. It's online to see and free. It's in a gallery but not always free. And somewhere, definitely somewhere there's a beautiful work of art on an ugly wall hiding away miserably for no one to see because it wasn't and won't be free.

Now there's a question or two: Is it still ART if no one else can see it? What's the point of "one of a kind" if no one else can see it? Seems rather meaningless. Kind of like drinking.

It's meaningless to discuss meaningless art and with my last thought the record ends.

When the record ends with a skip it reminds me of days long gone when I used to hit the wall to make the floor vibrate and reset the player. But that's a memory from a very long time ago when passing someone on the street meant you stopped and said hello. Most people don't stop and say hello... but some still do. Now there's a recent memory I'd completely forgotten that makes me smile. After I finish my passing memory with a smile I reach over to put the needle back onto the record and before Sean Rowe can start to sing I begin to remember to say...

I'm not drinking.