Another day, another vintage post. In this case, dealing with the 2017 eclipse. We’re having some severe weather in New Orleans  today and may lose power, so I decided some recycling was in order.

I did even less during the 2024 eclipse than I did below: I took a nap. I knew I could count on Cassandra to be our eclipse correspondent. Michael F covered it for us in 2017. And I wrote a bit of snark with a cool title Tales Of The Trumpclipse back then.

I did a little tweaking: adding links to remind you of the previous generation of felines. Claire, Perry, and I slept through this one. So it goes.

Enough of this introduction. It’s longer than the original post. Oh well, what the hell.

Set the Wayback Machine to August 23, 2017 and ponder the greatness of Billy Cobham and the power of Mother Nature. She always wins in the end:

I have a confession: I watched the eclipse on the tube with the other boobs. I ventured out briefly to shadow gaze, but it was insanely hot, so Oscar and I watched CBS and the Weather Channel. Della didn’t give a shit because it wasn’t about her. So it goes.

The sum total of my contribution to eclipse mania is to post this 1974 Billy Cobham album cover two days after the fact. Hey, at least it’s a great album made by great players including Cobham on drums, John Scofield on guitar, Michael Brecker on woodwinds, and Randy Brecker on trumpet. It’s fusion at its finest. The cover is swell as well.

The back cover is good but doesn’t eclipse the front:

Here’s the title track: