…I guess that was a pretty good ending. Lots of pretty bows for the people who absolutely have to have bows. I’m not one of those, but I appreciate the nod from the writers to the readers/watchers. I mean, it was nice to see Bubbs eating with his sis, and McNulty rescuing the crazy homeless guy, and whats-her-name, the cute freckly redhead, getting the judgeship a/k/a job for life. I think the lesson you should take from the ending of The Wahr is that if you go along, you’ll get along, and the closer you can tie yourself to the hull of the ship of state, the better your getting-along will be. Be a barnacle - it’s a good lesson for the coming Obama years.

Still, getting into piss-and-moan mode, David Simon is a pussy for ditching. He could have dragged this out for several more years, and I wish he had, because it was good appointment teevee. But he’s got his millions, so why bother at this point? I can’t say that I would bother, were I in his shoes, but then, I would have had a whale of time having fun with it, rather than trying to change millenia of human behaviour in five seasons of episodic teevee. That’s the artist, though. Hats off to them for trying.

And now I’m off to cancel the ginormous movie channel package on DirecTV, unless someone finds the words to talk me into watching Gabriel Byrne do his soul-shredding best not to bang psychotic hotties and be mortified when he does. Maybe get some hockey and baseball, instead.

NB: In my perfect world, Duquon would have been the one doing the debate last week and having a decent future. It’s very sad to me that he’s shooting up dope in the stables. But in the real world, we lose lots of ammo against the Forces of Darkness, so it’s not one eyelash off the mark. We still should shed a tear and say a little prayer.

I wish I’d been informed of this revolting development. I don’t know if we’re now on it or off it, but it means I’ll be smoking briskets till midnight probably. I unsuspectingly slept in a little bit this morning, thanks to being up late, driving back from Gruene after seeing Ryan Bingham and Joe Ely. Not the whole show for Joe…he was playing in 3/4 time last night, and I was getting drowsy. Good show by Bingham, on the other hand. The kid’s definitely more talented, in all areas, than Nashville freaks like Chesney and Urban and Brooks and Overdunn, and those schmucks that sell Chevy trucks. But you’re not going to see him on any broadcast-network “awards” show. OK, I’m done ranting and raving - the taste of Americans is an absolute mystery to me, and I’m even tired of myself being a pedant about it. At least the crowd at the show was a good one, covering all age ranges and looks, including the untucked-striped-shirt-with-French-cuff gelled-up fauxhawk douchebags, who I would have thought would be somewhere further north or south, not in a 2×6-planked dance hall.

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Set list:
Dollar A Day
Going Down (Who did the original? Cool old rock song, though…ancient, in fact.)
Take it Easy, Mama
Hard Times
Unknown - something about going to Tulsa, which is a long way from Pittsburgh
Long Way From Georgia
Good flamenco-y showoff-y, instrumental-y, Al Dimeola-sounding intro into…
Boracho Station
Sunrise (”seen them girls/shake their ass/underneath the sunrise/taste the sugar/on their lips/underneath the moon-light“)
Southside of Heaven
Travelin’ Jones
What Its Worth
Sunshine (that song of his that has a Zep/Levee feel to it, kinda, a little bit.)
Bread & Water - just freaking awesome, my favorite off of Mescalito

Joe Ely, being a good Lubbock boy, did pay tribute to Buddy Holly by playing a couple of his songs, which are always nice to hear. He had an accordion player with him, too. He also did The Torture Party Never Ends, (The Road Goes On Forever) which I guess by this point is obligatory for every Texas dance hall, but I’m sure tired of it. The kids loved it, though, so that’s OK. Whatever keeps the kids paying to see this kind of music.

Oh, and I’m smoking briskets because I shot my drunk mouth off to my partner & his girlfriend about how it’s just as easy to do two if I do one. So he was on my doorstep yesterday morning with two 12-pounders.