The Spirit Hits

I'm almost in the mood to do backflips down the aisle of the Holy Roller Tabernacle Church of Imbalanced Sinners and Saints. The hope of seeing all the clan down in the FL keys, and some old friends along the way has finally sparked a bit of cheer in my heart.

I've accepted the fact that I won't get my house cleaned and spotless and totally uncluttered before I leave. I won't do the backlog of laundry--I'll be bringing the dirty clothes with me. There will be laundry facilities wherever I stay in Memphis, and in Tavernier.

I remembered to retrieve my Audix Fireball mic from my pal K, who owns the PA and practice place Copper Creek uses. I just leave the mic there most of the time.

This way, I can better experience the new amp when the trade is made in memphis, and I'll be set if a jam with the guys is possible. I know the bass player and drummer are up for it but G1, living a complicated life, may find it difficult to work in. Hopefully we'll all be able to play. He sounded really good last time, and as much as I have groused about him at times, it is not the same without him. I guess absence does sometimes make the heart grow fonder, even with cantankerous friends. Which of us that applies to probably depends upon the day in question.

Like Joel. Now there is a cranky dude. Yet, bright as he is, he would put that tag on me. Go figure. Another musician who plays stringed instruments, as well as little harp in days past. I figure it is a guitar thing--they just can't see that I am always right, and that my ego is justified, whereas their egos tend to cloud their world view.

Excitement is something I try to cultivate when I can. Age can make your outlook so dulled that you scoff at excitement and wonder. I think that is not the way to maintain vitality. I know I am less prone to feel those things than I once was, but I like to embrace awe and excitement when I can. It probably triggers some good brain chemistry.

When it comes down to it, I like this season. I'm all peace on earth, good will toward men, and especially, of course, toward women and wimmins. Not so much toward those who screwed up the language by taking universal pronouns absurdly personal. And maybe not toward those who continue to paste laff tracks in shows that have the potential of being OK on their own.

Maybe the eye scare has made me appreciate what I have a little bit more, and want to waste slightly less time than I do.

The Tourmobile is all set and ready to roll. I do like that car. When I get rich, I'l still probably drive that car or something Subaru. And maybe a Toyota FJ. It is FJ, isn't it? Well it is two letters of some kind.

The wind here is horrendous, so it looks like I'll have a hell of a head wind to start, unless it lets up soon.