SOIL

This is one angry band. My Uncle Funk listened to it with me in the car. We went to Rita’s for a gelloti, then we drove to the park. I couldn’t eat my gelloti until we got there. It was one of Uncle Funk’s rules. He said just having me in his car was a “minor miracle.” At least I was past my sticky drooling phase. But he didn’t want any “regression by way of iced fruit and custard.” I laughed even though I didn’t know what “regression” meant. When I think of soil I think of the fancy flower soil my Grandma gets at Frank’s with the little white balls in it. This music is more like dirty and muddy. I bet they couldn’t use mud cuz there are already two or three other mud bands. They could be the Mud People, but that is too close to mole people. I like the drumming on this CD. It’s fast and thundering, like the storms down at the river. Uncle Funk liked it also, but said it had nothing on Bill Ward or Ginger Baker. I thought Ginger was the movie star. My Uncle laughed and told me that Nick at Nite would rot my brain, except for The Andy Griffith Show, and only the Barney episodes. Mary Ann was prettier anyway, but not as pretty as Padme. I ate my gelloti too fast and got a brain freeze. I thought my head was going to crack open. Just then a fat lady and her two kids walked up. They had rat-tail hair cuts, just like Harvey Speakman. Uncle Funk told me to give them the Soil CD because even though he liked it, this music was right up their mullet-headed alley. When I handed it to the kid, his was face dirty and his hands were all sticky. I’ll be damned. Uncle Funk was right.