Hello everyone, everywhere,

The weekend was rather funny. It was very quiet. I was bored and I didn’t know what to do, so I put a suit on and went to the grocery store. I didn’t really need anything, but sometimes I just like to walk around the aisles in a suit. You never know whom you’re going to meet. I usually meet the cashiers. Twice. Once when I’m going through, and the second time when I come back to get what I forgot the first time.

I’ve been going to the same store for years, so they know me pretty well. So they don’t mind that I go through the store two or three times in the same visit, and I don’t seem to mind, so that’s the end of that story.

On another subject, Michelle is going away. I will have to work long distance. I’m not happy. She’s not sure. Dean is just having a bad week. Michelle and I have been together so long. I can’t imagine her not being here with me. Sorry about that, Dean. But when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. I mean, I can’t stop progress. But this show will carry on in all its glory.

Well, that’s about it. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this. Oh…I just did. That’s it. Until next time.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts…if only for a moment…and rest. I had lots of ideas kicking around, but this one came back and had to be done. I love doing Danny Spitz, so I wondered after three years if I could do it again. And I am. May I present…the return of …


The Case of Find the Doll – Part 1

Danny Sptiz

It started like 1948 was going to be a good one. People had some coin jingling in their pockets, going out dancing, love on the mix. (You guys following me? Because I don’t like to repeat myself!)

I’m on my way downtown to my office. Oh! Let me introduce you to the players first. That’s right, we start with me. I’m Danny Spitz, Private Eye. You will, of course, remember me from the big Merv Belcap incident. What a case! I mean, Danny, you really stepped it up a notch.

Oh yes, I rehearse…no, I regret….no, no, no, uh…let me introduce you folks to my new office assistant, Glenda Spitz. Yeah, okay, she’s my kid sister. And not least, but it wouldn’t matter, my brother-in-law, Lester Luckless. My sister Glenda said she’d work in the office only if I hired her deadbeat painter of a husband. Well, there you have it. That’s everyone. Oh, I forgot. Almost everyone. (Later…later).

About Doreen, my last office girl…She quit. Something about me buying back my car, getting new furniture, and a few suits. Of course, there was an oversight in Doreen’s pay. She apparently wasn’t getting any. Hence we departed ways. Bye, baby! I’ll never forget you and your funny ways. As she climbed into the cab she yelled, “Screw you, asshole!” Who wouldn’t hold onto that?

On to the case. It felt like any stuffy Saturday afternoon in June, except it was Monday morning, and it was April. Note to self: if no milk for cereal, do not substitute bourbon.

So the phone shrilled around 2 or 2:30. It could have been 4. Who the hell cares? Glenda grabbed it on the fourth ring. (Surprised she even bothered). “You have phoned the office of Danny Spitz Investigations. How may I direct your call?”

“Oh,” the caller said. “You have more than one investigator?”

Glenda cleared her throat and replied, “Yes, there’s Mr. Feeble, Mr. Wontwork, and Mr. Finishedup.”

The caller said to Glenda, “Just put me through to any of them.”

Glenda replied, “I’m sorry Madam, those gentlemen are all out on other cases.”

“Is there any chance at all that Mr. Danny Spitz could be located? This is a serious case.”

Glenda snorted. “Hang on to your girdle, Toots. Leave a name and a number and Danny will return your call promptly. Maybe promptly is a little over the top. I’d suggest hanging around your phone most of the day.”


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week is starting to shape up pretty well. Just this last weekend Soulful Noize attended a birthday party for Danny, one of our guitar players. Danny’s parents put together a great garage band jam session for his birthday. The whole band came over to his parents’ place, and so did about forty other people. It was an incredible night of jamming, and if you’re a musician or a singer, you know the fun you have at a jam session.

We’re back at the studio now and learning new material to get ready for our summer shows. I am also going to do a one-act play as Superman at the age of 90, and what’s left of him will try to jump up and beat somebody up. I’m not sure if I’m going to put this on the road. I may just do some local performances.

I was thinking of getting a dog, but then I thought, NO. I was married once. I don’t need anyone else barking in my apartment. I was going to name him Harry. But I didn’t.

Dean’s having a bad week. Can’t say much about that. He just is. We’re in his corner, though, don’t worry.

That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Tonight, let’s enjoy…


Jam Session

Sometimes it’s enough just to do it.

If you are a player of songs you’ll want to be there.

For those of us who live for the passion, and of course, the ones who dream.

There was a regimen to follow, you see.

You bring your own gear and suck up the fear, so the smile stays on all night.

Nobody comes to be a star. You bring what you have: you are what you are.

Strangers become family, and oh how the ladies dance.

Sweating and rocking, smiling and living in the moment.

Not every song works, but you do.

After it’s said and done, and we pack the gear, our old dreams are put away…waiting for another day.

At the jam session.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone everywhere,

This week started out just like every other bloody week lately–nothing but sorrow in the world. I pay tribute to every single person who just gets up and tries to carry on and have a good day.

There is so much hate and misunderstanding in the world right now, even in our own back yard. I’ve spent my whole life watching people and reading their faces. That’s how I’ve survived. But now it seems that everyone is hiding.

If this is all we are then we aren’t very much at all. But I truly believe that there is more good than evil.

I would like to end by telling you this little tale. It’s something I’m quite proud of. My “conclusion” is gone, and I’m thinking again, the best I can. I’m going to keep getting up smiling. And so is Michelle. And Dean. And the cats. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. And now…



Now Leo Dancer is no more than that. Leo never puts on airs (unless called for). His promise to himself: to always be on guard. There will  be no quarter drawn or given. No, nobody gets one over on Leo Dancer. Leo knows the street and the street knows him (although his observations on that issue tend to be rather embellished).

In an effort to calm his thoughts, Leo starts his trek. One step at a time–never turn back. Determination pushes Leo towards the inevitable. Nervousness is an albatross.  He walks slowly, as the wind tries to hasten the trip.

Leo sees the fortress on the corner of Colter Street. He stops short of the looming sight ahead. There is fire in his eyes and in his soul. Leo has rehearsed his words all the way:  You have strength. No tears. No fear.

Leo enters the fortress. He rides the elevator four floors and comes face to face with his fear.

The giant leans down and says, “Don’t worry. Your age again is….?”

Leo looks up and says, “Eleven.”

And the giant says, “Now about your tooth. It’s going.”

Leo peers up at the dentist knowing that no fuss or muss will change what is going to happen. He looks fate in the eye and climbs into the dentist’s chair.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

It’s been an odd week. It was two years yesterday that I lost my big brother Merv. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think about him and  remember that he took care of me. If he saw everything I was doing now, he would say, “Fuckin’ A”. He would be happy because he would see that I fight every day as hard as I can. All he wanted for me was to rest, but I couldn’t then and I certainly can’t now. I’ll rest when it’s over, and it’s not over yet.

Michelle’s doing great, and she’s always there for me. Always. If I get too sad she gives me a kick and vice versa. That’s how we work.

(On another note, a kid just went by on a scooter and I was laughing and lost my train of thought. I’m back now).

I really miss you, bro…I really miss you.

That’s it.



The day was fine for June. I was walking, you see–twisted and tangled with thoughts of the past that I could not quite remember.

I looked around this new bar. I was the first to arrive. Happy hour. Time to sit. There was one seat left in a booth for five. I smiled at the waitress and ordered a beer.  And I sat and watched the show. It was a roar of conversation–smiling people laughing and talking. No one noticed when I curled my ear to catch a word of truth.

The waitress came by. She was funny; I stayed for one more. Good job, girl.

As I paid up my tab, I realized that I had gone out because I didn’t want to spend another night sitting at home alone. Here I was at happy hour in a crowded bar. Seventeen years and I knew not one person. No one said hello, and no one said good-bye.

What a bizarre walk that was.

That’s all.

(Never ever give up)

By jamesghutcheson