Looking at Photos or Why is My Mouth Always Hanging Open and Don't Pass Out in a Doghouse...

 I got all nostalgic the other day when I was writing about the last music festival we went to and I reviewed back through photos I had made at music festivals over the last year or so and there were some durn good photos. At the same time I reviewed over some photos made of me the last few days and the results, which don't happen to have anything to do with the photographers are not so good. 

It's official. I'm a squint eyed old man whose mouth is always hanging open. 

On top of that my grandchildren are growing up to be trombone players. 

I need several more trombones up in here. Maybe those plastic ones so I can let my old brain rest and not worry about them banging the slide. That's the downside to having a Pop-Pop as a gig mentor who occasionally sets his hair on fire and might or might not wear pants to the show. Makes it seem like anything goes. 

Maybe I could use that google AI thing and scan a photo of me with my eyes slitted and mouth hanging open and get an answer as to what kind of syndrome I have. Maybe I could scan a photo of me with my hair on fire and no pants. Sorry I brought all this up. Now you are scanning your own photos or maybe setting your own pants on fire. 

I once did kind of a quasi scientific study that proved that everyone I know that had passed out drunk in a doghouse ended up divorced. I haven't studied anything about hiding under a dock in a rain storm but they did make me quit holding on to the metal ladder when the lightening started. 

You can't really tell but yeah, mouth hanging open.  

Somehow I understand this album better than ever.