The Calm Before the Storm, or “Vinyl Sunday (Part 3)”

Any minute now the girls are going to come home and I’m sure all hell is going to break loose so, yeah, I’m going to enjoy what’s left of the quiet time with this ‘Goodbye Blues‘  record by Country Joe McDonald.

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Lord knows what Goodwill or Salvation Army I picked this up.

In fact. I’d forgotten I even I had it until this afternoon.

I likely figured that however little I was actually paying for it at the time was probably worth the risk of it not entirely sucking and, truthfully, the verdict is still out on that.

Released in 1977, unlike it’s predecessor’s ‘Love Is a Fire’, this record is filled with declarations of domestic bliss, and tries to evoke diverse moods and examining a wide range of topics.

It failed.

In some cases … Epically.

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But still, it’s not a total loss over into Shit List territory.

(Not yet, anyway)

Evidencing the return of the artist’s sardonic wit, for example, ‘TV Blues‘ finds him being separated from his beloved color television. And ‘Blood on the Ice‘ (with Marty Balin’s vocal help) is one of three tracks to protest the killing of animals.

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Unfortunately, it also contains a disappointing number of prosaic lyrics and unexciting melodies.

So, yeah … it’s pretty close.

But, regardless, it’s still a step in the general direction of not being total crap either and, fortunately, that’s just enough to skip the scale and not be a total wash.

About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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