Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Thursday, June 1, 2017

T-BONES. Enough With the DARN T-BONES. OH YEAH...and the MUSIC SNOBS.

     Your pal Vardzie just can't seem to get down IN there, and muck about with the snobs anymore. At least not with the same alacraty as I ONCE could.  One becomes less pliable as time goes on. Stop laughing at me. 
    Well...the undeniable ability and overwhelming urge to SMACK these eejits, has NOT deserted me .In times past,I had a bit more patience with them, and would try like the dickens to conjure up kindly and generous feelings, regarding their ENTIRELY dumb a**, WRONG-HEADED natures.

     Ahh geez.  So sorry. You may not BE a musician.  I'm talking about MUSIC SNOBS. Course I am. They've been hanging about in abundance for ...gosh, for EONS. 
    There are THREE types of music snobs that I've personally identified  through many years of painstaking, scientific study. They are ALL of the same family...if not species. YOU know.  The snobs. 
    Here's the first type. The annoyingly uppity PURISTS.  You're just not folksy, or rocky, or metally, or irishy, or punky, or bluegrassy, or country'eyish, or hard corey, zydecoey, or jazzy, or bluesy, or polka-ee enough for THEM.  nope. YOU, have in fact been caught commiting the unruly, unforgivable act of CROSSING THE SACRED GENRE LINE. 

    This is apparently a criminal offense in some....ummm MANY ridiculous circles.  You must NOT mix ANY music types. Does this bizarre edict not remind you of being cautioned endlessly as a fer crikes sake...draw or color WITHIN the lines.  We must at all costs...not BLUR. 
      I was once booked into a blues club. This club didn’t want to hear ANYTHING but pure blues. NO MIXING allowed. I agreed to perform nuttin’ but the blues, and DID.  The next day, the booking agent received a call.

     “That Nevard was here last night, and I don’t think she performed the blues in a way that was REVERENT enough.” Uh oh..that word again.

     I called the club owner myself.  I called him greedily. Gosh, how can you pass up a chance to rib the heck out of a snob?


     “Hello, Mr. Blues? This is Nevard.  Yes,that’s right. I’m  the Nevard that stepped into your sacred milieu of blues last evening.  I was happy to be there Mr. Blues, and had a good time.  Your patrons seemed to have a jolly time as well.

      My understanding is, that you are not entirely happy with my IRREVERENT handling of the delicate pieces of music I performed for them.  May I with respect ask a few questions Mr. Blues?  I’d like to know where I might have gone wrong in my interpretation of the    BLUES.

      You see, I’ve always thought this was a living art form, and not a dead reconstituted one….you know….just add water, and WOW, here’s Pinetop.  I just need to ask.  Did you in fact KNOW any of the performers that originally practiced this art form?  I’d like to fill you in on what you could have expected if one of THOSE revered musicians were in your club last night. 

     I’m assuming you’d have been in HEAVEN if good old Guitar Slim showed up instead of ME, yes?  Do you THINK Mr. Blues, you could have HANDLED Mr. Slim? Are you quite sure you would have liked his lime green haired, and matching lime green suited self CAREENING through your FRONT PLATE GLASS WINDOW?  Huh. I see.

     Would you Mr. Blues have enjoyed a little Robert Johnson poisoning going on in your establishment?  Ahh…a bit TOO reverent perhaps? Well, we don’t know if that’s true so how about some of those always exciting  Leadbelly STABBINGS happening in your fine establishment? Yes SIR, busy with the KNIFE, he was, and a Blues LEGEND.

     I’m picturing Howlin’ Wolf right now Mr. Blues.  Yes. He was certainly one of the blues greats, wouldn’t you agree?  Yes, I woud TOO.  And I am picturing him accurately, and WITHOUT QUESTION as he WAS Mr. Blues.  I am picturing him as he was the last time I saw him alive.

      Oh YES he was wonderful, but I don’t believe HE would have been appropriate for your BLUES club Sir.  I am picturing him in all his Howlin’ Wolf glory. Yes all three hundred pounds of heavenly JOY in those overalls, with his hand in the trouser part of them, RUBBIN’ HIMSELF like crazy. OH YEAH he was.

       Ahhh he WAS an inspiring sight, and WHILE he was TOUCHING himself in a decidedly not so innocent way, his TONGUE was sticking out and SLURPING at EVERY WOMAN in sight.  EVERY SINGLE ONE. His intent could NOT have been misinterpreted.  NO SIR, Mr. Blues.  I’d just like to say, IF you’d like to make an NON prejudicial comparison, I WOULD BE FREAKIN MARGARET THATCHER compared to those boys. No bodies through your window, no fatal stabbings, and no inappropriate touching of myself.”

      There’s nothing more fun to play with than a purist snob. 
      Okay, you alll...I'VE ABOUT HAD IT with the large amount of young musicians who have attached the "T-BONE" label to themselves. They seem to have done it in a willy-nilly fashion.  I have grown up with two actual t-bones. TWO. Count the Mo Fos. 2, Double, TWO.  NOT 3, 4, or 5.

      Let's see...there is indisputably T-BONE BURNETT, who seemed to acquire his t-boney moniker, in 1953, when he was the age of five.  Frankly, I would deem this to be the very last time period in which any new t-bone should have been created. AT ALL.

      And then there is...I'M QUITE SURE...the original T-bone....and that would be the Texas blues guitarist...T-BONE WALKER. I do believe that he was the ORIGINAL T-bone.  That's my theory, and I'm stickin' with it.  Walker's middle name was Thibeaux,  On his first 1929, when he put out a single for Columbia, he was called Oak  Cliff T-Bone. Oak Cliff was the town he lived in. That 45' had   "Wichita Falls Blues" on side A, and "Trinity River Blues" on side B. 




Thursday, March 10, 2016

JEREMY JOHN DENNIS 19-08-1952--20-09-2015


            Hello all, Not sure i can utter these unthinkable words, but will attempt to do so ....for those who have not seen this announcement on his loving brother Huw's page (F.B.).

      My darling and MORE than beloved husband.. Jeremy John Dennis, left this earth on Sunday evening...September 20th. We were lucky enough to spring him from the damned hospital, and were given the immeasurable gift....that of spending his last hours in our own home, and in our own bed. I held him close enough to imprint his very absorb his beautiful, precious soul for eternity, to meld it into my own.  Sweet Jeremy took his last breath at 8:00 p.m. ....just as the stars were coming out in the Florida sky.

      He is now,a part of those stars, and of the cosmos he loved.

That miraculous creature was likely the most loving, brilliant, and wittiest man you'd ever be lucky enough to meet. His talent, gentleness, and loyalty were rare indeed...and I am more than aware...of this irrefutable fact.  I was so very lucky to be loved by that glorious man.
     He made me feel beautiful. a truly daunting task for ANY female. He taught me more about American history than I'd ever known. Shameful....but true. Good lord, he taught me about GOBS of things. 
       Jeremy Dennis led a life of selfless giving, and too solitary by half. It was more than most of us would have been willing to give. He took the time to make us laugh, when he was in utter agony. I can only hope that I brought him a small amount of the joy that he sure as shootin' had coming to him.

       Don't know how to go on without him. Goodbye for now my precious..

Hope to make it over to Morley soon... we gave him a little celebration of his life, the last time I made it across. Need to crawl there soon...miss you all terribly.

 from the woman who was and is, so very proud to be your wife. 

I am suddenly reminded of the blinding, stark and startling birthday card, that my mamma slipped to my daddy ..exactly one month before he died.  It was simply luminous, and signed thusly...  ARAM I love you, I love you,  I love you,  I love you, I love you, I love you, I  love you, love you, love you, love you love love love love love love love you you you you you you you you YOU.

 Jeremy would want me to thank you all, for the friendship you gave him, and the kindness you have shown me. 

The day Jeremy made an honest woman of me 15-05-2012

Wednesday, May 8, 2013


This is my favorite photo of my darling husband Jeremy John Dennis
He smiles with his eyes. Not just his mouth.
He is funny.  He is brilliant. 
He holds my hand as tight as can be.
 And never lets go.
He catches me when I stumble.
He heals me when I fall.

He gives me faith, hope, and love.
Faith renewed in the goodness of others.
Hope for a future of joy.
Love I believed I'd never find.
He is everything.

Jeremy John Dennis is a bloody minded, stubborn, loving man. I will never let go of HIS hand.  This is my promise to you Jeremy.
A promise I will keep.

Monday, February 4, 2013


    Sorry folks, this isn't a funny post...although it's written about one of the funniest people I've ever known. 
    I was unaware of MANY things until the last few years or so. I understand now..matters that were a puzzlement, and am finally at peace with old questions never answered.  Strangely, I was filled in by someone who is gone from my life. Someone who finally admitted, they had used me, and were quite interested in my destruction.

Friday, May 14, 2010



One of the 3 BEST Pick up Lines...ok.

     I'm only giving you ONE of the three.  You want the OTHER two?  oh YEAH?  They're LOTS funnier.  Sorry.
     Here's a pitch I had the good fortune to be at the receiving end of.  There aren't that MANY that have true hilarity attached to them.  Most are fairly standard, and frought with unoriginality.    
     This delightful gem took place at the Philly Folk Festival. Why someone thought I'd be a GOOD thing to have at any FOLK festival remains a mystery. That reminds me of something. Older generation blues men seem to always have a valet with them.  I love that.  Where's my valet?  I've never had a valet.
      So, we're doing our thing at the folk festival, and the crowd is a little stunned by us at first...sort of felt like Bobby going electric there for a second,  but they danced and hollered for us just the same.  Bless their adventurous souls. 
ABOUT' EVERY SINGLE POST I WRITE?  IS THIS A COINCIDENCE?  It must be, because I  rarely THINK about Bob. Oh ok...maybe a LITTLE more than rarely.  Maybe about six times a year.  NOT THIS MUCH THOUGH.  I mean....he's great and all, but...HEY..know what?  I play harp a LOT better than Bobby....but that's really saying NOTHING isn't it?  Because not many folks can PLAY a harp as badly as poor Bob.
You can stop laughing at me now.
     Whatever happened to that Cambridge Harmonica Orchestra gang?  And WHAT THE LIVING HELL is THAT all about?  Don't think I'll ever forget the first....ok...the ONLY time I saw them.
     It seemed as tho' EVERY SINGLE "here's my weird little trunk thingie..harp holder", PERSON that ever

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

                   WHY on earth would Donald think I might be
his Next Apprentice?
In his infinite wisdom,  he wants me to PROVE it
to him.  Donald will soon cotton to the fact that
Vardz is not Apprentice material.