You gotta hand it to Jim. If there's a reason to whip out a camera, a subject out there to be shot, Jim's been there, going there or there right now. Or sitting at home manipulating stock footage into some rudimentary animation.
And when there ain't nothing else to do, hell, he'll just write a song and film himself playing it.
I tease and needle, because that's the vital role he plays in Americana. He's the self-effacing hold-nothing sacred kick-him-in-the-balls sweet ol' folk singer that lives inside all our bleeding liberal pinko deep-down sunnbitch hearts.
In 2008, even the old folks are rockin' YouTube. I present:
OK, so that thing is 8 minutes long. In the first three and a half minutes there's:
a dude swings a bat into a coconut, full force;
a high speed collision;
a mini-Jim jousts on the highway with a Christmas turkey;
a dude with a harmonica freaks out a dog;
I gesture wildly;
an extreme close-up of a fisherman's beard;
and women, women, women.
After that, I don't know. I got bored and moved onto the Yes.We.Can video again.
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Congrats, Jim! I wish you five more in a fifth the time it took to reach the first. May these views help you on your way. Well done, sir.
