Ken....love already found me...and then had to go. That was my "turn". I don't want anyone else and have no heart left to give. But thanks for the thoughts. And I do love my son, very much. He's all that keeps me going here.

T, maybe later we can sing Bob Marley in the pub like these guys.

I prefare this one

;-)

It's now after midnight in Pennsylvania sooooooooooo....

***DEEEEEEEP BREFF**********

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU OOOOOOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU OOOOOOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CHELLLLLLLEEEEEEEE.............

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY................

TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

Sizzles - Hi...welcome to the site. :-)

"I was really surprised at the tones on the musterion cd. VERY lush, and reminded me in a way of alot of the earlier stuff as well ...  If you can get those tones with the satchurator, then I'll probably buy."

Joe likely used some Satchurator prototypes during the recording of PSATMOR, so if you're looking for those tones the pedal should help.

Joe's tone has changed over the years as he's developed new pickups, amps, pedals, and so on...he's still always able to play pretty much everything, though, which should tell you that the majority of it is in his fingers.

It's nice to see you mention Dave Weiner. I love his solo album; I wish he'd release another already! ;-) The Ghost of Denmark St. is my favorite from him, although the whole album is excellent.

Hey Clarky, Huib told me you had posted about Maria in here. Some beautiful words you've typed. I share your grief, she was much loved and will be sorely missed, I'll be in touch soon. *Big hugs*

HELL YEAH!! lol!

Austin, I love Dave Weiner's music. I'll be getting his next cd as soon as it's released.

Chee, I love that vid! lmao! What a way to start the day. lmao!! woo-wooooo!!

Thanks for the b-day wishes peeps. 4 is a good number, and 44 is even better!

clarky - Nice to chat today but sorry to hear bour Maire, lovely to know that your music is being played and you are playing a personal song at the funeral, hope it goes well.

Will be playing Shredz monday and thinking of you!

Congrats on the tour.

cheese101 - Well its just not fair that men can stay the same size for life and its law that women put on 7 pounds every ten years! grrrrr........so no chance he is selling the jacket then....sigh!

Have a good weekend all

i sure hope this gets to Joe ..... i was at the Metropolitan-Mexico a few days ago for the 13th Aug show. just wanted to say thankyou Joe.... i came all the way from Jordan (middle east), and after all these years, was lucky to finally get to see you live. anyways, u took me back to the days when i first got your Time Machine CD, 14 years ago, pressed play, and learnt how to play guitar from the best. fast forward, and now im a recording artist, realising a dream that you brought about without knowing. so thanx again, for being a role model, a teacher and one hell of a guy ...... hope you continue playing for many years to come.

For women (or for men who want to know why it takes so long)

PART ONE

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.

Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch.

It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.

You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday the one that's still in your purse.

(Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).

That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail .

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course.

You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late.