We're talking NO Degrees of Separation, here. The Jolly Roger scored this little memento straight from the hand of Billy Powell yesterday, just back from the band's triumph in Madison Square Garden.
In the Large City just north of here, this is like having a flake of goldleaf from the Holy Grail in one's possession. I told him this was totally blog-worthy, a Prize of no small size.
It could only be better if you could say you went to school with the original band members, or hung out with them, or jammed with them. (Uh, I can say that a former backup guitarist of the band used to back me every Sunday, does that count?) I wonder if the JR will let me use the pick at the next Helen blogmeet?
The ever-lucky JR never knows who he'll see when he's at work. It was a very nice surprise.
Why, it's almost as nice as the little surprise he brought home Friday night:
Nah. We didn't keep it. It was a bit smallish, so we threw it back. But not before I got to drive it and leave it parked in front of the condo for the night. Suh-weet! It's nice to pretend to the upper echelons of societal thrones, now and then. It's even nicer to just kick back in our little Pirate Palapa and watch the egrets, herons and raccoons wander by through the marsh, and enjoy all the simpler pleasures of being left the hell alone!
Which makes for a perfect Sunday meditation:
"A man's riches may ransom his life, but a poor man hears no threat."