Hello Friends,

Red Peralta here (I know, my name sounds like a South American parrot); I also answer to Rebel Red (I am a rebel because I distrust all authority, including, but not limited to, Church, State, School, Doctors, and Judges of Song Contests). 

As Marji noted in the previous (and first) installment of our chronicle, I am recording her next CD  - and what a blast that is! Because Marji is one hot mama of a singer. Sweet as a mountain stream, her voice takes the shape of whatever you put it in, just like water. Ultra feminine, mystical. But, let me tell you, this gal has BALLS OF STEEL!!! The woman is living proof that wisdom, purity of heart, refinement, gentle good manners and kindness are perfectly compatible with knowing what you want, believing you deserve it and going all out to get it.  Ain't that the way it's supposed to be?

Speaking of balls, I just wrote another song (yep, it has big, hairy ones). So? What else is new ? Writing a song, for me, is like doing a bowel movement:   cleansing, pleasurable. Must be done regularly! If not I get stuck. Emotionally stuck. And if I stay stuck for long, I get sick. So, friends, that is why I almost never get sick! (Ask anybody who knows me. I had a bad case of the flu six years ago. Not a sniffle since. Ten years before that I had a fever for three days.) Nature calls, I go.

Admittedly the diet has to be good. But, more important than food is quality of thought. Because a bad thought, especially one about yourself, puts more poison in your body than bad food.

Now, here is the rub--the songwriter's dilemma:  If I remove all bad thoughts about people, situations and things, what am I supposed to write about? Flowers and sunshine and good things? Are you puking yet? Actually, I do write about flowers and sunshine and good things. But all the time??? Please.

Anyhow, Marji and I are trucking along. We go to open mics to find new clubs. If we enjoy the experience we call the club a "keeper."  So, we go hunting for keepers. If it is a high-profile club we hope to audition for an opening act slot or even a feature slot on the club's calendar. Otherwise, we hope and intend to make new fans, meet other musicians, and make new friends.

O.K.  So we get in the car. We drive. Maybe an hour, an hour and a half down to Jersey or up the NY State Thruway. We get there early, around six or seven o'clock. We find the club and sign in at the door. We pay money, anywhere from $3 to $7 each, to go in. We sit down and wait, often at least two hours before it is time to play. Marji sings her stuff, I sing mine. Everyone gets to play two songs, sometimes three. We stick around a bit longer to hear more folks play, and then we get back into the car, and drive home. That's it. This is the beginning of our marathon.

So far we have done the Towne Crier (Pauling, NY), The Minstrel (Morristown, NJ), and Beantowne Gourmet (Allendale, NJ), and we will be hitting Albany, Pennsylvania and Connecticut soon. Should you see us coming to your town, please come and greet us!

Yours Truly,

Her Redness,
Rebel Red