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Sunday, July 22, 2012

Eating my own words!!!

This morning is a great Sunday morning. We sat in the hot tub, I'm drinking my morning coffee, the air outside is still cool before it gets sweltering, and I have a rare chance to pick up my guitar and just let it rip.

In my head, I'm reliving the glory days as I feel the old familiar burning sensation in the tips of my fingers. I am thinking that I am sounding really good as I harmoniously wail Michael Penn's "No Myth". The feeling builds and I stand up automatically taking on the guitar stance, as if the music itself is coming from the inner depths of my soul.

I'm going through my old list of favorites, ending up on Melissa Etheridge's "No Souveniers". There is a really powerful bridge in the middle inundated with slow, meaningful power chords where she belts out, "No shirt...no shoes...no jacket...no blues...your car's for sale...you forward your mail...your cutting your hair... you don't wanna know where I'm calling you from...or how come..." I am really feeling it, in the moment, livin' the dream for that one second ...until Senia Mae walks up to me and says "OK, Mommy, that's enough," as she turns and walks away, completely unimpressed.

My own words were used against me in the meanest, cruelest way! I pick up my poor, deflated ego as I retreat back onto the couch to watch another episode of Max and Ruby with my two year old, who sits happy and content at my side. I know your not cool when your kids are teenagers but I thought at this stage I could still be a little bit cool...next she'll probably blurt out..."Not today, Mommy!" AARG!! Yes this IS what my life has come to!! How funny is that? :)


RobJ_1971 said...

It used to be that when I played my guitar around the kids they would light up. They LOVED it! I felt like the king of the universe.

Then about two years ago, I was in the middle of this burst of creativity (which doesn't happen often in my old age) and I wrote a couple of new songs. I was feeling great.

Until my step daughter (who was nine at the time) asked me bluntly why all of my songs, not just the new ones, sound exactly the same.

Open guitar case.
Place guitar in guitar case.
Close guitar case.
Place guitar case in the closet.
Lock the closet door.

Susan & Dee said...

My first and last attempt to see how my newest grandson would respond..... his lip poked out, eyebrows frowned, yes..... then cried. I put it up for the most part.
Last weekend we had an opportunity to keep our oldest grandson who's 8 years old. He couldn't wait to dry off, park the golf cart, come in and listen to my newest "creations". I proudly sing two of them and noticed his demeanor change. I launched into the 3rd one and he burst into tears. Next, we had to call his parents so he could tell them he loved and missed them. They had been gone about 3 hours. Guitar is back on the stand, getting out of tune ---- and I no longer believe that I am writing happier songs!