"I don't stay out late, I don't care to go..."

Ah…thank goodness, another Monday. Smell that air…rich in a sense of hopelessness, despair, and oppression. Smells like…(deep breath intake through the nose)…ahhhh…Monday.

After all the drama here at the compound Thursday night, Cousin Fred managed to escape the compound and drove himself to Wagoner, OK where the Dad and I were attending a Western Swing event. For anyone who may not exactly understand the concept of Western Swing, think of it as country music you can dance to.

It was a great set up there this weekend. There was the main room where the big names in bands and musicians performed scheduled sets.  There were also four different jam rooms where musicians of all types gathered to play music with other people of their ilkage.

For myself, I actually preferred hanging out in the jam rooms where at times the music would shift from Western Swing to “New York music” like jazz, some blues, a small amount 1940s pop, to just plain hillbilly music.  A lot of great musicians from all over, including two who had played behind Paul McCartney in the past, were in the rooms. A lot of these people were from Missouri and Arkansas, who apparently attended just to sit in there and play. The Dad told me there was even a piano player in the place who had toured with Elvis.

The weirdest part (for me anyway) was the sheer variety of versions of the old Fats Waller tune “Ain’t Misbehavin’” that were played over the weekend. Now, that is a personal favorite of mine. I heard it played in probably every key and every possible vocal style, none of which was really any good.  I thought about getting up there and offering my own version (which really is good), but it would have meant shaving this arctic fox on my face down to a pencil-thin moustache before going into my crooner mode.

Eh, it would have been too much job.

I tended to shy away from the main room where hordes of ummmmm, really elderly people protect their chairs as though it was the homeland itself. Seriously, it would take more than two hands to count the people who told me they were over 90 years old. And those people drove themselves to the event from all over the United States! That’s when an idea began to form in my head, namely:

Dancing to Western Swing music leads to a long life.

Had some problems when Cousin Fred got there.  It’s tough for him to sit on his hands and be quiet. At one point, during one session in a jam room where a remarkably tight group of musicians had gathered and were playing a great version of “Miles and Miles of Texas”, Cousin Fred raised a lit Zippo lighter above his head and started calling out “Play Free Bird! Play Free Bird!”

A couple of the musicians up front, caught on and started the opening strains to “Free Bird”, which led to a general argument among the other players who tried in vain to kick off “New San Antonio Rose”. Things escalated to a melee when the drummer removed a cymbal and began smashing it over the heads of the Free Birders.  At that point, I got Cousin Fred out of there and on the road to his native Western Arkansas where they better appreciate his sense of timing and decorum (or lack thereof).

I suggested that perhaps he should stay in Arkansas for a few days until the Wife calms down. I told him I couldn’t guarantee his safety at the compound until she does.

I also emphasized that I needed him to keep working on the variety of projects we seem to have going, particularly the reality show concept.

I told him I would keep working on the screenplay that I’m hoping to finish in time for the upcoming Twister Alley Film Fest in April.

Although I’m keeping the full premise under wraps for now, I will tell you that it’s intended to be comedy in the vein of Mel Brooks, which means I have to come up with a punchline every three minutes.

Let me tell you, it isn’t easy being funny. Particularly, when you’re a hopelessly snarky and cynical person with an admirable dry sense of humor. Eh well, I seem to draw a lot of inspiration from life at the compound, so I'm sure it’ll come together…as long as I can keep Cousin Fred alive.