Wind of Change (and it ain't pocket change)

Ya know, I just get a nasty itch between my golden globes when a guy can't get a seat at the Beacon for a few good tunes by the Allman Brothers for less than a few hundred smackers. Add travel, eats, a few beers, Manhattan parking tab, and a bottle of tylenol to defray the cost of putting up with the city-palookas and you got nearly a weeks pay; for some, more than a weeks pay. Jeezus, are these guys that hard up for dough that dudes like me who have been with the brothers for forty years can't imbibe their potion? I'm sick of it. The days of the Fillmore are long gone, but so is diggin on good tunes with the "greats", mostly because many are dead; but more painfully, because they became what they fought against so many years ago. I won a pair of tickets to Levon Helm's Midnight Ramble last month and the gig still cost me a hundred smackers just for lodging cuz it's out in the "boonies". Don't ask what the tickets usually cost. It's a rich man's game now; no money-no live experience. Fuck 'em, I saw Hendrix. Suck on that pelican lips!