Aside from the more serious rhetorical oratory of the GOP Convention (previously discussed on The Blogmocracy and elsewhere) Clint Eastwood’s performance was the perfect break. It would have been the perfect warm up act for any candidate running against Obama, and he nailed it. Addressing the Empty Chair:
“What do you want me to tell Romney?
[…]
I can’t tell him to do that.
I can’t tell him to do that to himself.”
He nailed it with wit, timing, and sarcastic humor. He’s an actor who knows how to ad lib when the situation requires it. How much of his presentation was scripted and how much was off-the-cuff doesn’t matter. It worked.
Papa Strutts had an unfortunate adventure recently that required us to donate most of his belongings. Among those was a vinyl record collection that included this:
I didn’t have that classic album. While I was collecting Zappa, Papa Strutts was collecting Aerosmith, and he was way ahead of me on jazz.
There’s some classic Stan Kenton, composing with bizarre rhythms and intentional dissonance. Yet he owed a great deal to his predecessors, like Jimmy Dorsey & Bunny Berigan.
The interesting part of music, and jazz in particular, is that there is no single musician who can take claim for any particular classic. Everything is derivative until someone like Miles Davis comes along and rearranges the blocks.
Have a great weekend folks, and maybe we’ll rearrange some blocks tomorrow.
Tacky Raccoons 