I am thrilled to announce that the winner of A Limerick Ox’s very first giveaway is… Nicole! She will now be receiving her very own copy of Old Man Luedecke’s newest album Proof Of Love in her mailbox very, very soon. Congratulations to her, and many thanks to all who entered!
There’s only about a day left for you to win your own copy of Old Man Luedecke’s newest album Proof Of Love! What are you waiting for? Just click here for the details!
You still have a few days to enter the contest to win your very own copy of Old Man Luedecke’s newest album Proof Of Love CD. It’s on until Sunday night! What are you waiting for? Click here to find out how to do it!
It’s with tremendous pleasure and remarkable aplomb that I announce the very first A Limerick Ox CD giveaway!
You read that one correctly: I am offering you, lucky readers of this great slice of bandwidth, the chance to make off with a copy of Old Man Luedecke’s newest album Proof Of Love. It’s the most perfect opportunity you will ever have (no hyperbole!) to enjoy the pride of Chester, Nova Scotia and his faithful banjo, courtesy of the fine folks at Killbeat Music and the equally fine folks at Black Hen Music.
Entering the contest is easy: simply post a comment to this article right here. That’s it. Just drop a comment on this post right here and you are automatically entered into the raffle. If you win, your very own copy of Proof of Love will arrive at your doorstep.
Remember when posting your comment to provide a valid email address so we can contact if you win (your email will not be made public) and please do not provide any personal information in the post. If you do win, I will contact you to acquire your shipping details.
You have until Sunday April 6 at 11:59 PM EST to enter! So go! Do it! And good luck!
Another week has come to an end, and with it, recollections of things I did this week. Let it be known I paid my cable bill. Let it be known I got a flat tire. Let it be known I sent an email containing sensitive company information to a client. Let it be known that these are my five favourite tracks I wrote about this week.
In order of appearance:
I’ve told you before about old Mr. Simoneau, the deeply frustrated, angry old coot who lived four doors down from me when I was a kid, and would always end up spoiling my fun. I still can’t, to this day, understand why he went out of his way to make the lives of all the kids in the neighbourhood miserable. Like this one summer day a bunch of friends and I pulled out our hockey sticks, the orange ball and a pair of goals and set up in the street. Well, lo and behold, old Simoneau popped out on his balcony and started yelling at us, convinced we were on the verge of breaking one of his windows. Crazy old bastard lived on the second floor of a three story apartment building, so he was rather secure from a street hockey game.
We sort of brushed him off, for once, and let him have his fit. He eventually went back in, and we thought we had won. It was a nice feeling to know that we had stood up to Simoneau. But it only lasted as long as the arrival of the police, who nicely asked us to go play somewhere else. THE OLD SON OF A BITCH CALLED THE COPS ON US.
But the true revelation came when we went back the next day to play in the exact same spot. As old man Simoneau popped his head out the window and spotted the father of one of my buddies standing there, ready to jump in to keep our right to play intact, Simoneau silently recoiled back into his apartment and stayed there for the rest of the day. Old man Simoneau was a craven worm.
I really wish that instead of an Old Man Simoneau our neighbourhood would have had an Old Man Luedecke. How much cooler would that have been, walking by, waving at him as he sat outside strumming one of his jostling, breezy folk tunes on his banjo, plucking at it both fiercely and melodiously, like he did when he helped Buck 65 out with Indestructible Sam. We’d sit down and listen to him joyfully sing about his eclectic characters, like on Proof Of Love, while, perhaps, offering us a glass of iced tea or some sponge cake. And it wouldn’t be weird because everyone would have loved him due to his authentic approach to music coupled with his quirky, deliberately strong, and passionate delivery of it all.
But no, he was all the way over in Nova Scotia. I was not born in the good province.
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