Hey Listen Motherfucker, we only sing 80s Joel!
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Sometimes Iâll sing just the bass line to Rush songs.
âboom- doodley boom, boom dodley dood do-doâŠâ
Just donât sing their lead guitar solos. 
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I tried to finger-drum a Neil Peart drum solo once. All of my fingers spontaneously combusted.
MAY 16, 2007
JOHN MOEâS POP SONG CORRESPONDENCES
A NOTE PLACED IN THE PAY ENVELOPE OF BILLY âTHE PIANO MANâ JOEL
BY JOHN MOE
Hi, Billy,
Itâs hard to find time to talk at the club since Iâm busy managing the place and youâre at the piano. And we need to talk. Iâve occasionally given you a nervous smile hoping it would initiate a conversation, but that hasnât worked out. Iâm hoping that by writing my thoughts down, youâll have a chance to read this when youâre at home or something.
I think you should sing songs. Actual songs. Because you donât sing any at all right now. Youâve been playing at my club for three months, and though youâre a fine musician and an acceptable vocalist, these things you perform are just not songs in the traditional sense. Theyâre streams of observations about what the people in the club are doing, punctuated by the occasional âla la la, de de da daâ when itâs clear youâve run out of things to say. Itâs just a continuous stream of musical small talk lasting up to five hours. How about âStormy Weatherâ or âYesterdayâ or something? Hell, âFeelings.â Anything. Do you need sheet music? I have some at home.
Frankly, this has been bothering me since you started, but I figured since we get a regular crowd shuffling in on Saturdays when you play, why rock the boat? But this past Saturday I couldnât help notice that there was a lot of tension in the room. As you know, it was actually a pretty good crowd that night, customers who wanted to forget about life for a while by having some drinks and hearing some music. John the bartender provided the booze, so they looked to you for the songs. But instead they just heard their own sad lives echoed back to them. That nice old man wanted to hear something from his childhood but couldnât remember the tune all the way. It would have been great if you had at least guessed at one before loudly rephrasing his confusion in rhyming verse before firing off more âla la la, de de da daâ lines. That old manâa regular customer, by the wayâwas so humiliated that he ended up performing a sexual act on his cocktail. Of course, I donât need to tell you that. You put that in the song, too. You had to be a big shot, didnât you?
Billy, that kind of thing is why people kept yelling at you all night. âSing us a song, piano man! Sing us a song tonight!â they shouted. But instead of doing so, you simply shouted their words back to them and added a line about how you were making them feel all right. Which you werenât. You were making them mad. People arenât just in the mood for a melody, theyâre in the mood for a legitimate composition.
They were annoyed, too, because the observations were cruel. Davy often discusses his plans for when he gets out of the Navy (itâs a steady paycheck but the rhyming-name thing annoys the hell out of him), but to hear you speculate that he would be there for life was a crushing blow. Again, why the public humiliation? And our businessmen were irate about your description of them getting âstoned.â Do you not know the difference between drunk and stoned? Hint: One is acceptable businessman behavior, the otherâs illegal. But even if you were to say they were getting drunk, that still would not be OK. As a matter of fact, just donât sing about the businessmen. Theyâre nice guys and good tippers. I guess I do owe you some thanks, however, for singing about the drink called Loneliness. Thatâs a terrible name for a drink. Iâm renaming it Banana Mambo. More festive.
As to our waitressâs efforts to get a graduate degree in political science or Paulâs attempt at pioneering the literary genre of real-estate fiction, Jesus, Billy, leave them alone.
Looking back on that Saturday night, Iâm actually surprised that with all your observational nonsong music, you didnât notice the acrimony you were creating. The smile faded from John the bartenderâs face, yes, but he wasnât giving you free drinks, he was throwing empty beer bottles at you. He wasnât playing jokes or lighting your smokes, either, he was literally trying to set you on fire. The only thing you got right was having him say, âBill, I believe this is killing me.â It was killing all of us. But still you would not sing songs. I got so desperate I poured a beer on your microphone and shoved huge wads of bread in your tip jar, thinking it would get your attention. âMan, what are you doing here?!â I shouted. But instead of stopping, you just sang it all back to me. I mean, Iâm sorry I lost my cool and all, but Jesus, what is your problem, Billy?
So for next week: Please sing some actual songs. Thatâs what you were hired to do. Youâre the fucking piano man.
Thanks,
Anthony Cacciatore
Manager
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Poor Brian. This was a bad choice. I couldnât not watch. More dangerous than 1000# deadlift.
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https://m.imgur.com/gallery/mKiBgp8
It thinks it has hands
Was late to leave for work this morning as I had a local meeting but was giving my grandson his breakfast whilst he watched his programmes on tv. A Barbie advert came on and they now have a barbie dog that urinates and defecates by squeezing its stomach. I found that ad quite chuckle-some
Crazy, like a tamer version of the arm wrestling MMA fights.
Listen to these dudeâs when the croc gets their fish. Bahahaha!
Paul and CT going back and forth in the comments is hilarious
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My 5 year old has been batting 1000 this week. Had a few times he forgot to follow rules, lied, tormented his brother. Normal 5yo stuff, but out of character for him. So weâve had several conversations about consequences and choices this week.
So last night I try and reassure him and tell him that even though heâs been corrected a bunch lately that heâs a great kid and heâs going to have a great life if he learns to think before he acts now as a kid.
He thinks pensively for a second. âYeah dad youâre right, if I donât eat too much I wonât ever have to go on a diet like you.â
He said it with no malice. Iâve never been more proud lmao.
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Geez. I better start dropping some more weight before this happens to me.
at least he gets it haha ⊠in theory anyway ⊠in practice is a whole nothing level
I started a private practice last year, and so am using Quickbooks. Iâve dipped into the community to look for answers before, but either theyâve updated the system or I stumbled into a different area this morning, because it offered that I could get started as soon as I established a name, which I did. A few minutes ago I received this high honor via email:
You have a new rank in QuickBooks Community
Congratulations emily!
As the result of your contributions to the community, you have earned a new rank.
Your new rank is Established Member
Hahaha, it doesnât seem to take much to get ahead there! I havenât written any posts, and have only skimmed a couple of articles. Maybe I should make that my primary site and let TNation fall to second - how well I recall my outrage and sorrow when my member standing dropped during a site reformatting somewhere along the way. Iâd made it to the second-to-top ranking and then dropped down to second-to-last.
Iâm thinking that with Quickbooks I can be a real contender!
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Noooooo, donât leave us, Emily!
Have a goal board at the gym, an adult male (~30) put his goal as â190lbs 8% BFâ, it doesnât make me laugh at him, just at the goal, because 10 years ago I wouldâve thought that goal was readily attainable, and knowing what I know (or donât know) nowâŠit just seems laughable how hard that actually is.
I have a buddy, an AF lieutenant, who always wanted to compete in bodybuilding (clearly he has to be natty due to AF drug testing policy and he is just basically Captain America Boy Scout type of guy - nttawwt) - so, a year or two ago, he decided to really dedicate himself to the goal (he has a more than full time gig w/ the AF, wife 2 kids, volunteer activities up the wazoo, etc.) and documented his progress on the facebooks (has his own fitness page etc.)
Long story short, it was the most grueling endeavor heâd set out to accomplish - but he did itâŠ
Moral: yea that shitâs hard ⊠but attainable with the right attitude, planning and execution (and support system - his wife is a fucking saint)
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