You’ve been using wider arm gestures to illustrate your point. Part of the aging process, I’m sure. I’ve aged a bit since last you saw me. I was so busy push-carting my “Sister Ray” — as we all must, at some point, it seems — that I had not noticed the stretching of my muscles or the stretching of my face. I stretched my face so far down, as far down as a cartoon jaw, and so far up, as far up as the tearful eyes of a scream mask in oil. The more my muscles stretched, the less control I had over my arm gestures.
The wider your arm gestures, the less credible your point. At this point in time, I can say I honestly don’t care. Not only will I continue to widen my arm gestures, but I am going to flail wildly about on the stale stains tamped into the fabric of the stage. If my cohorts in the rhythm section didn’t have to hold down the fort, I’m sure they would follow suit and flail wildly too.
But you’ve got us pegged; it’s true. We’ve been so busy “at it,” that we’ve failed to notice our bodies’ new slopes and stretches, trapezoidal moles and turbulent folds and wrinkles.
You know them Hookworms all up in Weird World Records:
More about: Hookworms
