The day after Christmas, my brother and I went out to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things for the evening meal. We veered a little off the list and picked up a couple of bottles of wine. That night, we cracked open a bottle that we bought simply for the monkeys on the label (which we dubbed “monkey merlot”) and tried to record a couple of songs.
I knew my brother was learning how to play the guitar, but I haven’t heard him sing since he was like 5 years old. So, when he sent me a scratchy recording of himself that he made with a broken headset mic, I was shocked. He sounds like some old country blues singer.
We sat down late that night and goofed around with my recording equipment and put down a couple of tunes. One of them is Johnny Horton’s “Whispering Pines”.
OK, I’ll bite.
Which brother? Last I heard, none of them were in Flordidia any longer.
(And no, I haven’t listened to the song yet to try and tell that way, as I’m at work. I do look forward to grabbing it when I gets home tonite.)
Hey! I drank penguin merlot last week! It was really good too.
Ya.
Which brother.