Guns n’ Roses played the Holiday Tavern once time in the 80s. I didn’t go, I could tell what they were about and it didn’t interest me. I thought they were just an imitation of an imitation but if I could go back in time I’d probably attend the show now because now it would have been hilarious. The audio version of my 2020 book Music Lessons is almost finished. There were a bunch of corrections then life distracted me with everything many immediate deadlines, always successfully fooling me. I hate the piling up of the unfinished, calling me like a mosquito in the room when I’m trying to sleep. Half the book done is a good sign and Karen Gordon reading sounds as awesome as I hoped. I had the date almond at Juice For Life because Aaron Eaves once told me it was the best thing on the menu. I have never agreed with that observation but I’m a victim of soundbites. Everytime I order it I hear and see an imaginary Aaron Eaves approvingly smiling. That’s how advertising works or at least how advertisers believe it does. The more I live the more I see advertising as an extension of thought and how thought needs to manifest itself in all directions at once for no good reason except machines need to be mechanical. The offensive intrusive meaningless advertising never ends like its counterpart, the inner world of worry and deadlines and unnecessary fantasies about acceptance or rejection. You have to walk your own mind back trying to find the thought behind the thought behind the thought in order to expose the wizard behind the curtain. Same with advertising. To see through the idea of the image that this or that is happiness and see it’s just actors and they aren’t even happy about appearing happy, it’s just a commercial. I guess Axl nailed it that night – where do we go, where do we go, where do we go?