But of course, my mind turns in this direction when it’s indulging in pretty high-end ‘luxury suffering’—which may be why I never had the guts to attempt to sing the blues. A rather stiff and starchy inside hiding behind a provocatively louche veneer was one of the contradictions that so successfully inhibited many of my activities in the days when I cared to experiment creatively. Still, various forms of inspiration sometimes helped me slur my way through a Torch Song or two without disgracing myself completely; not the blues, though. Perhaps that’s why I love it so much. Do you know this one?
More blues…
Oiling a Rusty Mind 
I feeeel it baby! But honestly can’t understand how YOU could ever have the blues! Love to you.
Is there a human being on this earth who doesn’t, dear Kelly? Lovely to hear from you, as always.
Birth, illness, and death. OK. They forgot to tell us about age.
So subtle, yet always there. Of course, one always has the blues, just under surface if not out front.
Love this rendition. and, at least it got me off Little Feat’s Rock ‘n’ Roll
Doctor for awhile.
Aging ain’t easy, or much fun. But it’s so nice to hear from you, dear Robert. I hope that you’re well and send love, Janine