"If You Don't Forget, You'll Die."

I sing and play drums occasionally in a band whose repertoire consists mainly of soul and R&B covers from the sixties, and Wednesday night is our "poker night," when we gather together, toss around some songs, jokes, sneers, vitriol and more. But before I make it to the "Jerk Lounge," the fab studio where we rehearse, I like to sit for an hour, alone, have a drink and a bite and just decompress.

So here I am at the bar of one of my favorite midtown establishments; a comfortable and familiar place. (Thousands of restaurants and bars in NYC, yet I find myself frequenting the same four. I like to go where everybody knows your name and they're always glad you came.) Apparently, I was in a zone, as I didn't notice one of the owners, a very French man, standing right next to me. When I awoke, he asked, "You okay?" I laughed and said, "Yeah. Just so much shit going on, or more accurately, not going on," I shrugged, "I just got lost. For a minute there, I almost forgot just how tough things have been."

He put his arms around me, and with that Chevalier voice of his, he offered this, "If you don't forget, you'll die. Let me buy you a dreenk."

Well put, no?

Burning Wood seems to be catching on a bit, and that makes me happy. I don't expect it to save anyone's life, but if for two minutes a day you can get lost, then that is something.

This bit of audio made me very happy yesterday afternoon. CLICK HERE for Bobby Z. and Blossom D.

And finally, I want to mention the passing of one of my favorite rock and roll drummers, the amazing Mitch Mitchell. Of course Hendrix took the spotlight. That makes sense. But few could swing, or funk hard in a hard rock power trio like Mitchell.