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From an oblique reference to Screamin' Jay, I can't help but put the man front and center. Right where he belongs. Sending my mind back to an age of tickled novelty, where deep, rusted out racism could be temporarily nudged aside by a more genteel prejudice. I wonder if the people of Hong Kong would've been offended by his puerile asides about egg foo yung and other gibberish in the middle of a blues about being separated from your baby in a strange land. If nothing else, it's a reminder to laugh out loud whenever you find yourself lost and alone.
Gotta let it ride with Joni Mitchell. We pick it up with her mid-roadtrip in a state of serious mental dishevelment and feeling no sense of home. Interesting how much this rocks without the benefit of drums and only Jaco Pastorius riding shotgun on bass. Thank God that crazy bastard wasn't behind the wheel.
