Excuse me sir

We have a song called "Excuse Me Sir (can I have back my soul)" that has an intro of just a guitar. I play an arpeggio and then hit some harmonics let it ring with delay and then repeat with a differnt note in the arpeggio. It's been in my head the last few days, making me think of something distant, but in a box. A scene of a memory burned into my brain as a moment in which to pause and reflect.

Joe has had the song "Jerkwater" stuck in his head for the last two days. It kinda got me thinking about where the working title of that song came from. My sister and I were visiting my other sister in the Evergreen/Conifer area of Colorado. Nell had taken time off and flew up to visit her and I happened to have spring break that week so I drove down. We stayed with her at the camp she was working at, with her gracious roommate. (Becky's house was being de-skunk-funked so she was staying with another single woman in her house on the grounds.) Becky had work she had to do and Nell and I went up to some ski hill whose name escapes me, Breckenridge that's it, to see an old roommate of hers when she lived in Leadville. We drove my car up there and met him and he had her old half-dog/half-wolf with him. Nell was happy/sad to see Luna. She was a pretty dog but she had gotten fat in her time with her new owner. We hit the slopes for some snowboarding after some brew and food in the town and on the drive back, Nell pulled out this cd that she had, which was of a band called "Freakwater." The songs were catchy and the lyrics were sometimes outstandingly funny.

I've had in my head from time to time the gist of one of those songs and it's always reminded me of that time that we were driving out of Breckenridge back to Evergreen (through South Park, no crappy I-70 for us, we're bon-a-fide Rocky Mountain Residents!) (yes, it's the South Park from the stupid show. One of the creators of that show grew up in Conifer and the kids from S. Park were snotty, over the pass types. But, S. Park is also the name of the valley that the town resides in. We drove through the valley, not the actual town, we had better things to do.) Somehow, over time, I had gotten the name of the band crossed with the term Jerkwater and it worked it's way into my working vocabulary. "Fuck this Jerkwater town, I'm going home." "Shut up you lousy, jerkwater hick!"

And that's a story that'll never get on VH1's Storytellers. Amen.