Another Pic someone sent me

sent to me with the caption, "Harmonica Whore" because I play with a variety of people--almost all who ask--local joke and nickname. shades due to sun shining through storefront as it was setting, causing unpleasant glare. Not sure who took this or others. They make the facebook circuit then a friend clues me in

For once, I really hope to get the video of something I played last Sat. and the big open mic gala/fundraise. Actually, I was part of a contingent of people who were specifically asked to come play and do more than the usual ten minute set. That was nice.

Anyway, I wonder how that one thing turned out. It can feel one way when you run a solo for a few minutes, but you can't know how it projects. Especially because half the sound when playing diatonic harmonica is rumbling around in your head because that crazy thing is in your mouth. Sounds obscene. Could be wherein lies the appeal.

Finally, a day without a big work push. Plenty else to do.

I am lucky for at least two reasons, maybe more. One is that the powers that be tend to smile upon me at unpredictable times for unknown reasons. Another reason is that I realize my good fortune and don't blame you or Bush or Obama for my shortcomings. That doesn't mean I agree with what I see as the slow erosion and increasingly rapid progress of our nation toward a thing of little liberty and personal breathing space. Be that as it may. I still know the important aspects of what gets in my way aside from that, and it is I.

Lately, though, I've been finding the little victories approach working so that I'm surprised I am less bogged down and unproductive. Anything I do becomes a small accomplishment in my mind--laundry, maintenance, work today instead of putting it off until tomorrow, etc. Even tiny things, like washing a dish.

I was very bogged down for awhile. Most of my life, on and off. I'm enjoying the unusual feeling of being alive enough not to crave escape every waking minute. It doesn't feel like a manic swing this time, but who knows if it is or not. It has lasted for about two weeks. Two weeks in which taking that first step toward anything wasn't a huge obstacle and an unpleasant chore.

I don't remember that happening since one time when I was 28 visiting my brother with my then wife. He had some minor projects around the yard that had been put off. I immediately started moving rocks and such rather than analyze the amount of work, the dread which my father instilled in me, etc. I gave that up a year later and got drunk for several years.

Comparing this pic with the one in prev post, it is clear I was working the mic according to what was appropriate at the time. A friend played Orange Blossom Special, his way but kind of like C. McCoy, and sounded really good. Very good guitar player and harp player--much more the bluegrass/country player than I am. You can bet, as much as I do not even care for the tune, I will learn OB Special and be able to do it fast one of these days soon. I hope to play it once and then forever put requests for it to bed. It is like asking me to hit my head with a hammer for your enjoyment. But after hearing Les play, I just have to do it. Once.