Airborne Yet? And Other Burning Questions


Somebody recently asked, “How is that jumping thing going?”  As we all know, sometimes enthusiasm overwhelms common sense.  My knees can attest to that.  Today, they hurt.  

The pain, in turn, raises the age-old question of whether overweight older folks are designed to jump?  We will leave to scientists, theologians, and politicians the debate as to exactly what is “age-old” and whether man is 6,000 or 200,000 years old.

My body parts are not debating humankind’s age.  Instead, my knees are complaining that extra weight and age are not conducive to jumping.  The raging debate here is whether losing 30 pounds would elevate my vertical jump.  That, of course, begs the question of whether I even should work on my vertical jump in the first place.

Loyal readers know that an improved vertical jump is part of a -- perhaps ill-conceived -- plan to distract audiences from shortcomings in my guitar-playing abilities.  The combination of standing in one place on stage, pursing my lips, assuming some heavenly inspired gaze, and relying solely on my musical talents is a recipe for a potential disaster.  Nor is it very entertaining.

Vertical jump.  Humor.  Self-deprecation.  Banter.  Dark glasses.  Bright clothes.  Energy.  While these may mask my talent deficits, they also have entertainment value.  Isn’t rock ‘n roll entertainment?  If you want to hear precisely played, error-free surf music, you are better off with a CD.  The Lava Pups live are not for you.  We are a rock ‘n roll garage band.  Subtle and sophisticated do not describe us.  Having fun and being enthusiastic about performing work best for us.  

Besides we are glad that people come out to see live music.  Would you rather see a band that is happy to have you there or one that acts like you somehow are intruding into its inner sanctum?  In some musical genres, being aloof and detached from an audience seems to be de rigueur.  If the Lava Pups ever go there, pull the plug.  The band is done!

Unfortunately, my sore knees are balking at their role in this endeavor.  They seem to be asking, “Didn’t you listen when somebody described you as portly the other day?”  Maybe they would prefer the Chuck Berry duck walk.  Ugh!


 

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