Oh The Humanity!

What has become of me? I'm beginning to think I have found a different edge from the one I tried not to go over sometime ago. I'm almost getting fat, though that is merely a side effect.

I realized that I was looking for the grits because I am becoming an insomniac who seeks fatso comfort food. Still, that is not so bad. I like grits, and I'm not actually fat. I'm borderline on having to wear size 33" waist pants instead of 32. Mostly butt taking up the space I think. That sounds silly and it is. This is the edge I'm treading; bizarre, vain, and sad considerations occupying my time, rather than money making frustrations, day trading, or selling used vacuum cleaners that I find and fix.

So, I wanted to read the instructions on the grits because I forget if you boil the water first or heat it with grits in place. Because I don't want to turn on the kitchen track lights which would mean three 100 watt spotlights sucking down electricity, I carry the bag over to the bed where the floor lamp with one squiggly bulb which pulls 23 watts (supposed to replace normal 60 watter) resides.

Later I go to check the water, now boiling on the very slow two burner hot plate, and can't find the grits. Oh, there they are sitting on my bed. Then it struck me, I may not be normal. No wonder the horde of wild women I would think would be after me are not beating down my door. If they could weave their way through the junk upon entry, they'd find a bag of grits on my bed, along with some clean clothes, a towel, and other textiles piled up on one corner.

The up side is that if the feds ever nail me for not knowing how to approach taxes or other official matters, I can present a strong case of being too nuts to know better.

For some reason, when I looked over and saw that I left the bag of grits on the bed, I felt it was a sign. Something was telling me I am not properly organized and perhaps my life is mixed up. It is not the ultra dark place where I dwelt so long before leaving Memphis, so that is a relief. It is also something good to remember. My biggest fear upon setting out for new horizons was that I would bring the part of me that can never get it right along. Of course, I knew I couldn't run away from myself. I was more trying to assert a form of control over my mind and destiny. It worked to a point. But once I stop moving, I am always in danger.

I think there are ways to manage this issue, if I could get the nerve and discipline to do it right, but there is probably no curing it. I'll always be the guy with grits on his bed because he doesn't want his utilities-included rent to go up. I've even considered using the camp stove instead of the electric hot plate thing to save energy--and because it is about 20 times faster.

If I were a junkie or a drunk, this would all make sense. As it is I have no excuse, except the one I'd use in court, should the need arise. And it wouldn't even be a lie. I simply am no good at taking care of my basic self. That was obvious as soon as I became unmarried a lifetime ago. But I haven't been too willing to let any interested parties get overly involved because I also have an aversion to judgement, or someone taking over based on half true assumptions, or later using it all as ammunition against me in some crazy campaign of defamation.

In the mean time, we tested our PA on site for the upcoming church fundraiser, praise be to [deity of your choice]. We're using GV1's system, rather than that of the holy place. Despite the work involved, and the distance of the place, he correctly reasoned that it would be good to know how it will sound, if it is adequate, and if there are problems so that we can correct what needs it. By doing it now, we have time.

GV1 is my new name for the guitar vocal guy in this group. One of them anyway. G1 is from the Memphis band.

I could not believe how well it all worked. No matter where you sit in the place, the sound balance is the same, and the volume is close to the same. And the monitors were great as well. I don't think adding people to place will influence it much---unless they are chattering and being a problem. I have a stick in my car I can use to make them behave if need be.

The big trouble is I sometimes lose all faith in my skills. I'm such a jammer at heart and this is not jammer type of play. It is good to be able to do it, but it is sometimes worrisome to me. I often play things that suck. The next time I might nail it. I seem to lack consistency and it all appears to depend upon my inner state of mind, even more than practice. The goal is to help enhance the sound of the group, not detract.

Got to get a place set up to work on harps. Seen the price of harmonicas lately? Through the friggin roof. I can't find my Lee Oskar tool kit but it is around here somewhere. It has all the things you need for most harp work. I could make good harps out of the dozens I have with stuck or out of tune reeds. The problem with having a good ear is that you know when one is beginning to go south. The trick is to play whatever position requires the most bends so you can hit the right note. If it is a bend note you just make it work. Maybe it is just me, but it seems that harp playing depends upon a lot of faking it.