Man o man o man...(sexist-alert) Well, it sure is good to be back here with you all. Any of you that missed me, well, I'm sensitive and I react to negative replys to any of my post. Ok?
Well, now, where were we? Yes, it's all coming back to me. I was about to confess my real identity (famous seventies has-been) when my phone rang or beeped or gasped...and I will tell you it was a phone call un-like any I've ever received before! A job offer from a stranger, aka 'the man', who claimed knowlede of me most personal. I let him talk and he told me things about me that even I didn't know I did or knew or said or thought or wished or dreamed. I said 'say on, man and he got right to the job offer. What it was was for me to talk to people on the phone and 'tap' into this inner-'wave-length'...and tell them, musically, lyrically, how they were doing. The man had pre-screened them and revealed to me their 'wave-length', and with pre-ingested info I would write the musical-mindset that they would be hopefully pleased to hear. The phone calls would be random and no money (the pay is 'big-money') would be exchanged until the client felt he 'knew' what he owed me. In the last three months I've made three calls (leads provided) and I've made three-million dollars! I go out every morning and spend a thousand for breakfast and a newspaper just to make sure I'm not dreaming. I'm not. My account at the bank is growing faster than ever with interest and other in-bank offers. Life is beautiful.
Well, here's the deal. My first call was to someone I think was a former high official of a very prominent Western democracy located in North America. The Man called me and connected us and the conversation was off and runnig.
"You spoke with the man?" I began. "He told me everything about you, and I have some music for you. If you agree with the terms stated by the Man, I'll press play and the man will get back to you."
That's pretty much the script I was given. I had worked on the song for approximately 4 hours and that is 1 hour under the limit granted by the man. The client agreed, I pressed play...and that was it,more or less. My song was tough for him, for anyone for that matter, to hear.It ended after 1 minute, 23 seconds, and I broke the silence with an "are you alright,sir?"
He was fine, and I hung up. I felt something like a hitman, you know, for the song was tough. Hell, politics is tough. I thought about all the 'hurt' I had received from politicians and that helped me fall of to sleepytime. I slept like a baby and woke up to the sound of Elvis on my alarm-radio. I know it's random programing and all, but the song I wake up to every morning has a habit of being my theme song...in a way. "Return To Sender", what was that all about?
Just then the phone rang (my bedroom phone always rings). It was the Man.
"Nice job, my novice employee. The client has reciprocated already. I forwarded your 'royalties' to your account. I hope you'll be satisfied. We'll be talking. Good day."
So, that's it . That's what I've been doing. These 'songs' are sort of ...I want to say 'sacred', but they are that and more. The man has not told me I can't publish them but my conscience does forbid me. I'm thinking of doing re-writes, and if possible after that I will publish them. What, that's my phone...just a minute, please.
What do you know, it's the man. I gotta go. Business,you know.