Beat the Klock

I’ll be trying to write my coulmn this week extra fast because my computer is crashing every fifteen minutes or so lately because of the heat, so I just have to make sure this doesn’t take any longer than fifteen minutes... see if you notice any difference...

One of the big changes you’re likely to notice might be a total lack of attention to detail; by that I mean that I might not have enough time to spell-check or to confirm any facts or ideas that might happen to be reported here or use actual English and having the serntences work out in the ordinary way, which, I think, is one of the things (or, if you prefer, some of the things) I’m so well-known for - my exquisite grammar and very happy prose style, which, in this case, I might not be as good as (or, at least, I doubt it.)

Usually, we are most painstaking here at Le Krepe de la Kape about meticulously checking and, in fact, personally combing through each piece of hard evidence in order to make each and every kolumn absolutely as actual as possible, but this wek we might not have time to. In fact, we don’t. Can’t. Computer could blow up any second. I might even have to stop using commas completely.

(By the way, some of you will no doubt be fascinated to know that when we use the word “we”, we actually mean “I”; we just don’t want it to sound too lonely up here at Kelp Manor, which it isn’t, not as long as I have the pert ‘n perky Mrs. K. and her extensive team of large, dusty canines carrening through the empty, cavernous hallways here at stately Kelp Manor at all hours of the day and night. Pulks, we just like the idea of having a big staff working round the clock on -well, nothing. This, I guess.)

At any rate, we hope you’ll bear with us during this difficult time until the damn weather cools down and our stuff works again; but if you can’t, well, so long, sucker -we always knew we’d never really be able to count on you anyway. Nice reader you turned out to be! I don’t know why you even buy newspapers to begin with, you faithless, indigent guppy.

And again (or, if necassary, for the first time), thanks to my real readers, the little people who support me through thick and thin, regardless of whether my computer is working properly and the time it might take to make the sentences normaller that I don’t have this week. You guys are the salt of the earth, and I’ll never forget you, no matter where I gok and no matter how rich and famous I become, because you’re the people who will have made me what I am, if I ever become anything.

Oops! It blinked -better go faster...let’s see, what do I usually write about? Oh yeah, local music -haven’t heard any lately. Well, no local bands, anyway. I’ve had guests. I’ve heard some music locally, like, getting groceries, or at a restaurant, or on TV, but I haven’t met up with any actual musicians lately, I don’t think.

No! Wait! Here’s one -Zoe Lewis! I saw Zoe last week at Esther’s in P’town (where she works every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday) and she was absolutely wonderful and charming as always. How could I forget? I love Zoe. Go see her immediately. If possible, bring a lesbian!

What else happened? Oh, yeah! Philo Rockwell King III at the Sandbar in West Dennis -I’ve been meaning to tell you guys about this one for weeks. If you’re looking for the nostalgic, Patty Page, fifties version of Cape Cod nightlife, look no further -Rock King at the Sandbar is the entire package. Rock is a musician/comedian who has played out here for about forty years; he’s corny, funny, and occasionally salty in the traditional sense: generally, without dirty words. He even does wife jokes (he said his was named “Cobra.”)

The waiters sing along and seem to know most of the punchlines, which isn’t too surprising, seeing as Rock is pretty much the only act that plays at the Sandbar, which is iteslf a total fifties throwback, a dark, wooden shack out near the bay beach that serves nothing but cheap drinks and free popcorn. Even the prices are fifties: the cover charge was $3.00, and Mr. King was selling his albums -all vinyl, as he is still putting the finishing touches on this first CD -at an amazing 4 for $10.00.

Still, the best deal at the Sandbar was on the gorgeous Philo Rockwell King III tumbler glasses, which feature a picture of Rock that gradually comes to light as the drink goes down, looking dapper in a tux, lovingly framed under a piano keyboard. We bought six of them at a scandalous $3.00 each, meaning to give thenm away as presents, but have only been able to bring ourselves to part with one. Actually, I wish we’d bought more.

There! OK, done! Phew!