The intertunnel didn’t always suck pond water. All sorts of people used to contribute all sorts of things to it. It wasn’t a rigged game yet. It was lively and wide open. Guys like Claudio would close their bedroom door and do their best with their webcam blinking at them and their neighbors pounding on the wall to quiet down.

This video is thirteen years old. If there’s anything as direct and real on the intertunnel now, it won’t be surfaced by a search engine. Claudio is/was some kind of working musician, not a rank amateur or anything, but then again, the word “amateur” translates to “does it for love.” I’d call him a professional amateur out of respect, because Yoruba Tube wasn’t expected to make you famous back in the day. His website link on his Toob page is dead, for instance. Rock on, Claudio, wherever you are.

I don’t mind James Taylor. My big sister used to play his records incessantly, rouletted with Cat Stevens and CCR hits and things like that. Songs are just aural wallpaper, if examined harshly. But they can conjure up images and feelings when they reappear. My sister can never reappear, so I’ll take what I can get.

James Taylor’s general appeal is kind of hard to pin down. He just seems like Jimmy Buffet without a sense of humor to me. But Mexico is right on the money, man, and harder to play and sing than it first appears. And the words are a nice little flash fiction story, like most good songs are.

Baby’s hungry and the money’s all gone
The folks back home don’t wanna talk on the phone
She gets a long letter, sends back a postcard
Times are hard

It’s not quite For sale: baby shoes, never worn, but it’s pretty good nonetheless.