One year ago today: August 17, 2018, working on the pamCamper.
Five years ago today: August 17, 2014, remember Xcurrency?
Nine years ago today: August 17, 2010, I pride my ignorance.
Random years ago today: August 17, 2011, one gram.
Sparkster, the big dog, is going into the v-e-t on Monday. Don’t say it so loud. The thing is, this is precisely the reason I’m here. This is not the type of thing to leave to non-family. Superficially, nothing to it. Dog gets an infection, take him to the clinic. I won’t go into detail but this was two hours worth of phone calls and you know how I love phone calls. I’ve got the time and importantly, the money. Do you have any idea what a visit runs to nowadays? I’m not saying a stranger couldn’t do it, but to get it right enough would be unfair to ask a pet-sitter.
The heat saps everything, I skipped a plan to hit the museum and worked on repairing the yard swing. Pictures soon, but for now I have no inclination for extra exertion, like lifting a camera. I even dissuaded myself from heading to Harbor Freight and did the sawing by hand. I think they call it a backsaw, because after a certain age the damn thing hurts your back. You may remember the poop-scoop boogie, which ended with the destruction of the rake, one dog nip at a time. Well, I slapped that back together with some scrap wood. The dog won’t take to anything else, it has to be the original. And I painted all the bare wood that looked like it needed a coat.
I want to paint the yard swing, so I checked the usual sources for used paint. In Tennessee, that’s less productive. They still want like $15 a gallon for stuff that’s been returned. Put on the old thinking cap, who can I hit up for a can of used paint? I’ve been living here six months this year already. Think. Any color will do, but shy away from oranges, purples, and pastels of chartreuse.
Shades of green.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
I domesticate easily, guys. I’m reminded of the story of the lady who hated her husband so much, she hired a psychologist for advice how to hurt him. The doc said that’s easy, shower him with compliments, and become indispensable to him. Just when he thinks you love him devotedly, start the divorce action.
Three months later, she returned and said she had followed his advice to the letter. He asks, ”Are you ready to file for divorce?”
“Divorce!” she said indignantly, “Never. I dearly love my husband.”
The fact is, my behavior here has become much more retirement-like than back home. I’m okay with yard work and chores to an extent unimaginable just a few years ago. I don’t mind, if it takes Tennessee to slow me down or settle me down, it’s over due. So what if the big event of the day was gluing a backing on my jigsaw puzzle. Would I have had the patience to even do the puzzle back at the cabin? But don’t go nuts, if adventure comes within striking distance, I’m ready to swoop. I download the last of the missing music for the gig, see addendum. Otherwise, I was outside in the shade for four hours today, and kept the dogs out there with me.
And I have no relevant photos today, so look at the pets after a sunny afternoon shower with the garden hose. These guys are always relevant.
Buried down here are some financials. Be aware most of this is nothing new, but a confirmation of a few facts kicked around for years. Both being musicians, we are aware, very aware, of how narrow the chances are of a band with two personalities. It even broke up The Beatles. Same in business, but we know from experience we can be a formidable combination, not in the traditional sense, but that we can make the best of almost any situation. No examples, just that I put my money where my mouth is on this one. A quick look at the books and in the past ten days, I’ve spent just $282, half of it on entertainment. And I complained about prices half the time.
While I complain about prices, there has always been a tendency for the Reb and I to make the most of any situation which doesn’t seem to cost a lot. She knows I’ve taken to Tennessee and the pets have taken to me, it’s all happened before. As long as things stay at this keel, not as much of a challenge for us as most, I’m okay with investing again. We talk about such things almost naturally because we know who to trust. I’m bringing this up now due to decisions that must be made if they are going to be. I may not be in charge, but I make the judgments and face the consequences. All of them.
ADDENDUM
Another quick round of talks with the band, but still no invite to the Wednesday rehearsal. I rather view that event as the turning point of this adventure. I’m referring to a specific summons, if it was just atmosphere it is already almost a given I’ll be there. Toward that, I’ve targeted the newest material on the list, a transparent gamble that these old songs were chosen by a guitar player who would now like the rest of the band to follow orders like they are supposed to.
I could be dead wrong on the motive, but not the outcome. Besides, have you listened to the bass line to “Horse With No Name”? Putting me on stage to play that over-simplistic tenth-rate dribble is like handing me the baton. I may not be able to pound a nail, but I know how to make a show of it. I didn’t say that, my tip jar did. The newest list has the Elton hit, “Honky Cat”. I don’t like such music, but that bass line is an invitation to me, how it gets progressively funkier toward the end.
It’s quite the equation, the people who choose these songs know if they do a super job, the audience is going to lionize someone in the band. I agree with those people, just not on who they think that person is going to be. My approach is that every note of every song is precious. Play it that way.
My music completion index today is: not reported at this time due to list changes.
