What? More Jazz?

Yes, it's Saturday again, so it's time for another of my rotating Saturday shows. There are only three, of course, but wouldn't it be awesome if I had a giant Price-Is-Right-ish wheel I spun on Saturday morning that had a dozen different genres & I had to make a radio show that day using only that genre? That would be fun! I shouldn't even think about it.

No, today is my jazz show, now in its third episode, it's called "Tags & Tricks," & today features mostly modern stuff from the likes of Cecil Taylor, Sun Ra, & more. You can listen to it at selfhelpradio.net. It might make you hipper.

Okay, it won't make you hipper.

I shouldn't say such things.

Fire Blimp!

He let himself get depressed only when he had had one too many. That was the point of no return. Or maybe, let's say, it was the point of the farthest the boomerang would go until it came back. It went too far. That was the point. At the edge of its limits, where it might actually be free, then, then, it could be honest.

He knew he'd return to her despite the honesty of the drink. He had taken college psychology, he paid attention, he knew which of his feelings were bullshit & which were real. He also knew he had had some kind of dumbass economical attitude about his relationship, which was, "I have invested this much, it would be ridiculous to squander such an investment with fill-in-the-blank." His equation, of course, was never divided by the circumstance, which was: "I am unhappy all the time."

At what point might she cross the line, do something so incredibly perverse & selfish to make him fall, like a broken boomerang, where it was thrown? He thought about that often. He actually daydreamed about it. He wondered if she were even that calculating, or if her own innate selfishness would eventually reach that event horizon.

It would free him. It would make the decision for him.

Or would it?

Drag Yourself To Self Help Radio

The show about dragging - including being in drag, taking drags from all sorts of smokeable items, & drag racing on the main drag - was not only a drag, but may drag you down with it. If you find yourself curious or you're feeling otherwise reckless, you can listen to the show at selfhelpradio.net. You don't need to cast a dragnet over the area to find it. It has done no wrong. It will come if you want it.

There's also a new episode of Sugar Substitute, which is not any less of a drag, although there's a lot of birthday wishes to Buddy Holly. Just so you know.

Whither Drag?

Because drag has a ton of meanings! It can mean at least seven different things. (At last count.) & each of the things it means, altogether, weigh two thousand pounds. Really! It can be a verb or a noun or even a part of speech that hasn't maybe been invented yet. The possibilities are endless. Or the possibilities can take ninety minutes. Whichever comes first. Or goes last. Or goes to last, coming in first. That's how remarkable that word is.

My cat thinks I don't know that he sleeps on my desk in front of my computer when I'm not home but I know he does because he leaves hair everywhere. He thinks he's so smart. Now I have tiny black cat hairs on my keyboard. & since I like to lick my fingers when I type, now they're all over my mouth, too.

I know, the show is happening soon! Like, later tonight soon! I don't go to sleep on Mondays because I don't think I'd wake up on Tuesday mornings in time for the show. That's kind of a drag. But the show isn't. Except, you know, this week.

So listen tomorrow morning for Sugar Substitute at 3am & Self Help Radio yawning at 4:30 am! You can listen on the air in Lexington at 88.1 fm or you can listen online at wrfl.fm. I edit out all the embarrassing parts (like when I say "booger") when I put the show up at selfhelpradio.net, so listening live is the only way to know what really happened.

Must I always have to drag you to my radio shows? Arggh!

Preface To Drag: How Do We Know You Don't Always Do Your Shows In Ladies' Clothes?

Short answer: you can't. Though I might sound weird if I'm wearing a miniskirt. Or crinkle more if I am wearing something fancy.

I've actually been in drag before. I played Lady Macbeth in a video for my twelfth grade class. I played her as if she were a Southern Belle. I refused to wear a bra. My sister wanted to let me borrow one of her bras, but I couldn't do it, couldn't wear one of her bras. I did wear one of her ugly dresses, though.

I don't know if I've dressed as a woman since then, although one summer when I was home from college, I was bored & I put on a lot of my sister's make-up. Interestingly, my father - who was of course then alive - came over & saw me all made-up, playing my nephew's video games. I'm sure it just confirmed his opinion that I was one queer kid, but I was actually embarrassed. I wouldn't have been embarrassed with anyone else, I don't believe.

Drag has more meaning than that one, you know.