Occasional Holy Man, Indifferent Bassist, and Maladroit Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts about Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, and Interesting People. Breaking the Narrative Since 2001. Cultivez votre propre jardin. [Also, "alot" is not a word.]
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Ah, Cleveland. Don't Ever Change.
From October of 1863:
[A moment of absurdity: The girlfriend of one of my friends did just that at a Rolling Stones concert at the old Municipal Stadium in Cleveland in the summer of 1975. Traditions die hard, apparently.]