Actually, the TT is my in-between after Indy and before LeMans. Music-wise, well . . . . . .
Every year around this time, I sense the ordering of the planets, a subtle shift in the rhythm of Mother Earth, a vague calling once more comes forth. By now I know these signs, as now is when the Babylon Sisters shall once again escort me to my spot beneath the Banyan Trees, under the watchful eye of Bodhisattva. I wave to Hoops McCann while Walter and Donald are counting off the opening tune. THIS is how I once more know that NOW is the time of my Annual Steely Summer. Once more to strain to figure out how Chuck Rainey played this one, how Anthony Jackson played that one, and remember how sad I am that Jeff Porcaro is no longer around. This mania will run its course over the next few weeks, and then once the fever has ended, I'll take my Big Black Cow and get out of here.
