I spent most of yesterday in London. Smelly dirty and overcrowded, I had a great time. The new Douglas Coupland novel, JPod, was out and I picked up a copy.

After a day of walking around and visiting the usual list of music shops I found my way to the Royal Albert Hall and took my seat for an evening of Frank Zappa's music, played by Dweezil Zappa and his band. The audience (myself included) had a loud and lively time enjoying these great songs played with skill and gusto. A surprising number of people walked out during the first half. Were they overwhelmed by the music, upset with Dweezil for not being his father, out of their depth? Who knows? I felt the evening to be much more emotional than I had expected. The footage of Frank playing had us all cheering as if he was really there. In a way, through his music, he really was there and for someone with a reputation as being so cynical, there was a huge amount of love being directed at his memory. It didn't hurt that the musical legacy version of his memory was so good it made you want to dance.


fjl said…
A good bit of history inspiration.

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