fandomtownies | Groovy Tunes; Friday [ 11/07 ]

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Groovy Tunes; Friday [ 11/07 ]

It was rare that Chad was alone when he opened the store; he almost always had Prince Oscar Pedro with him. This time, though, he had Prince Oscar Pedro and a much, much larger pet with him, too. No, not Teddy's freakishly large cat, but Jeff's freakishly large dog. Chad had jumped at the chance to take care of Nana over the weekend while he and Turtle went away to that wedding, and now, he was attempting to educate the dog on the punk movement of the late seventies. He would totally buy that Nana was a punk rocker.

Of course, this resulted mostly in Chad talking away to the dog and the dog drooling all over an annoyed Prince Oscar Pedro, but Chad didn't seem to notice.

Today's Mix: Fun Run One

Groovy Tunes is open!

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Who actually makes Nana look somwhat normal-sized.

Coyote was out and about checking out the other businesses. Either that, or he was here to flirt with the dog. Honestly, it's probably best not to ask.

He might've been a little confused as to the purpose of the store. "You sell punks, here?"

Well, Nana was a very robust Saint Bernard if there ever was one.

"Uhh, punk music," Chad corrected, carefully, because he wasn't sure if that's what the man meant or not. "I think it'd be illegal to sell actual punks."

[ooc: possibly dumb question! Is Nana female?]

Coyote tilted his head and snorted. "That's a good trick. People don't realize you can't own music?"

Edited 2008-11-07 19:54 (UTC)

Coyote was distracted enough with this conversation to not ~~yet~~ be making eyes at that lovely Nana.

"Ah. So you sell them these things so they are lazy and complacent and don't bother to make their own music." Coyote nodded, grinning. "Very clever."

"It's not just that," Chad said, frowning slightly because he could make plenty of his own music and usually did, but he also had a CD collection that probably combatted the size of what was sold in the store. "Not everyone can make music, and even few people can make it well. Sometimes you just want to listen to music that's just better than what you can do. Or even just because you like listening to it..."

Coyote raised his eyebrows. "Music is one of the first gifts from Great Spirit," he said. "Man has been making it since he was created."

"Yeah," Chad said, "but not everyone's good at it."

Any venture into the pop section would show that all too succinctly. Chad shrugged.

"A lot of people like listening to CDs. But, uh, we also sell some instruments if you want to make your own instead."

Coyote decided that this was some long standing trick that even this store keeper had fallen into.

"Hm. I would like to hear this music that you say is so good. Do you have recommendations?"

Did Chad have recommendations!

"Uh, well," Chad said, thoughtfully, as he brushed some hair futilely out of his eyes. "Depends on what sort of thing you like."

Coyote shrugged. "I like music." He was a native spirit, he really only knew of one style. "Ooo, and drums. Drums are good."

"Oh, sure," Chad nodded. "There's a lot of neat percussion performance groups out there." He motioned for the guy to follow him as he, the naked cat, and the giant dog started down an aisle. "Some of 'em even add other stuff, like cans and buckets and street signs to the mix, so it's really neat. If you're into drums, we got a drum set in the back you can hit on if you want. I'm teaching one guy to kind of use it; he uses flaming drumsticks."

Yes, Chad felt that was all relevant information, otherwise he wouldn't have said it.

Coyote's mental image of flaming drumsticks involved flambed duck. "Neat."

He might be getting a little distracted by the dog and the cat. Hmmmm, pleasure or food first?

Now that they were there, Chad went to even more detail about the variety of different percussion groups, tradition, tribal, alternative, blah blah blah...

...blah blah blah...

...blah. Clearly, the man had a lot to choose from, if the slow, droning, rumbling sound of Chad's voice going on and on didn't put him to sleep or turn his attention entirely toward the pets, the smaller of which definitely seeming to sense something amiss and trying to nudge the larger to go...somewhere else. Soon. Now.

Prince Oscar Pedro wasn't making very good progress.

That was one nice looking dog. And he wouldn't have to worry about hair in his teeth with that cat.

"Did you say tribal?"

"Yeah," Chad nodded, reaching for a few specific CDs. "All over the world tribes, too. There's Native American, some Celtic, even some old Japanese drumming, which is probably more clan than tribe, but it's the same idea."

"Native American? Which tribes?"

"Uhhh..." Chad looked over the CDs. "A lot," he concluded. "Are you looking for any particular one?"

"Absarokee? I created them."

"I...don't see any, no," Chad admitted, a mite disappointed. "Cherokee, but not Absarokee. I could check and see if there is any and special order for you?"

"Hmm." That sounded expensive. "No, that's alright. I can always just go and tell them to play it for me."

Chad, not at all much of a businessman, nodded in agreement. "Stuff is so much better live, anyway."

Talk at Chad -- 11/07.

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Mod your Shopping -- 11/07.

OOC -- 11/07.