One year ago today: February 3, 2017, it's a gift.
Five years ago today: February 3, 2013, nit country at all.
Nine years ago today: February 3, 2009, I can't play billiards.
Random years ago today: February 3, 2014, standard spoofing information.
A heavy duty morning, I felt just chipper enough to get an early start. I know I should be taking it easy, but everybody has the occasional super day. Part of it was information arriving that this old blog, for a few minutes anyway, was rated in the top one thousand on the planet. It was gone by the time I got to the site, but several fans say they screen captured the event, at number 971. What makes this the more remarkable is that I’ve never resorted to using SEO schemes.
That’s a photo of Trent strumming the flat top back at the trailer court. Five years ago today.
That path is to simply carry on, and if the other person wants to comp or put on a second-rate showing, so what? The performance will suffer, but I know I’m good enough to not get blamed, even when (ahem) certain people try that on purpose. I adopt the attitude that what do I care how bad the rest of the band is, as long as it is a band. What’s more likely is I find the happy medium and carry on. I’m not going to wind up giving the other person guitar lessons. You know, I’ve already showed her the strums to each piece, and in some cases, shown her several times.
As always, the question is always easier to answer when it is somebody else’s predicament. So what would be your choice? Which is more important? The ultimate sound, or getting on that stage as soon as possible. I’ll try patience first because she has both disappointed and impressed me before. Strange how she can play the endings all right, but can’t play the intros or breaks.
And while I’m being mean, I’ve prepared a nasty surprise for that alley cat that keeps sneaking through the flooring and getting at my trash. He just ignores the vinegar spray so we have to make the message a little less subtle. Howard says that is the only cat he has not been able to catch and have fixed. If the cat is that smart, he’ll learn a lesson this time.
Bluebells in Scotland.
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How’s the diet? Good. It’s also an indicator of how important the band is that I don’t mention it more often. It’s the same as any diet, the early loss is mostly water. Except I know I did not lose 21 pounds of water the first two weeks and nothing since. At least I have the few good consequences, which I’ll share. My clothes slide on, I’ve got proportionately more energy than lugging around the extra weight.
The work is heavy enough to burn any calories I’m consuming these days, so something has to give. This photo shows the ‘sound wall’ in progress. I ran out of lumber, so check back tomorrow. The studs are staggered on 2x6” plates in preparation for sound-proofing. This is the wall that will be directly beside the kitchen area. It restores the building to a two bedroom. And gives me that critical practice space. The floor is fully insulated and this wall alone is due to have eight outlets. Four to a side. This room will not lack for receptacles. I likely needed the proverbial 2500 calories today.
Nothing’s changed, I’m losing inches but not pounds. It doesn’t make sense, which is probably what so many people find depressing about diets. In the last 13 days, I’ve got a deficit of 19,500 calories and my weigh has not budged. Doesn’t that work out to 3 pounds? But this time I mean it instead of restricting my intake and exercising, I’m changing lifestyle. It was overdue and anyway, I’ve been changing since 2003 when I quit eating beef. Actually before that, when I quit putting sugar in my coffee back in the 90s. You know what I mean. I’m changing so slowly it is more like adapting. Even with all the pollutants in the system, it’s still hard to make real changes because it is akin to admitting what went before was wrong. I ate modified food for years before I realized it was bad for you.
You know, I thought vegan and vegetarian were about the same thing--a condition that causes its hosts to incessantly talk about it. But according to the radio, they aren’t the same. Does anybody know the difference, or must I go through the bull crap of going on-line and getting 50 million half-baked answers? What? Okay, so on-line it is.
Later, it seems vegans are the strictest types of vegetarians. Some will eat eggs and milk, others won’t. So does that make them the fundamentalist set of the veggie crowd. Factoid, vegans that eat fish are called pescatarians. And does the world really need this much nonsense?
ADDENDUM
More music drama. I worked until 10:00PM and decided that was no way to end a Saturday night. Next thing I’m downtown and the bar band is that mother-daughter outfit “from Nashville” who are really from about twenty blocks west of here. The thing is, and I didn’t know this, all the mother’s sisters were in the place and one of them took a real shine to me. Normally I could care less about such things, but you can’t but notice the men who hang around that band, or more to the point, the type of men. That’s all I can say about it, but funny thing, they are all guitar players. No bassist.
So anyway, the two sisters I met are totally unlike the rest of the family. Leave it at saying they are not as pretty. But they are as equally pushy and opinionated as if they were, that never slows some women down. Gosh, though, her backside was two axe-handles across. It was amusing to hear her talk about the people around us. That’s her husband, that’s his brother, those two gals are her cousins, and the guy on stage is the ex of the daughter’s sister. This went on for quite some time.
Now, the thing is, I was not in the mode for meeting other people’s relatives. I was working the crossword discretely, over in the corner behind my small briefcase. What are all these women doing over here? And why do none of them look remotely like Taylor Swift The one who liked me was pretty persistent but had the wrong approach. How does one respond to women who consider ordinary literacy to be genius level behavior. And whose male acquaintances are all guitar heroes, not known to be my favorite people. You date a 40-ish women and all her exes and cling-ons come with the deal.
I got more of the story than what I bargained for and no, you get don’t get any details. I will say that there is a lot of truth in the adage that without the love of a beautiful woman, life is empty. At the same time, the reality rears up and life with the wrong person makes existence not only empty but meaningless as well. No brownie points for putting up with nonsense even if it is the best you can do. One of the worst situations I can picture is taking flak from a woman you do not find attractive. And I have experience at this, for like, about five minutes. Right, Theresa? Five minutes! I guess it only seemed like five years.
Hence, my old advice comes back. Ladies, if you want to meet somebody, be careful who you even be seen talking to. The guy who is reading and writing has determined there is nothing better to do in this joint, so don’t be expecting him to wade through a pack of goons. It ain’t happening. And trust me, he has already taken stock of exactly what you are up to. Everything. What you think makes you look popular is probably interpreted more or less differently by educated men.
She came back to talk to me I’d say five or six times. I was not supposed to figure out she was checking the room for somebody more her own age or whatever. That is an unrewarding lot in central Florida, but it also makes me the fallback. She didn’t seem to grasp why I was not just glad to be worthy of her attention. You know, the way, when she was talking, I would sometimes fill in a couple of squares on the crossword.
Last Laugh
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