Confession: I secretly believe that Lucretia The Guitar and I will rise to stardom through busking in train stations. I will be that pitiable yet alluring starving artist who rejuvenates songs by one-hit-wonders that have since settled into the backwaters of pop music due to overly rich and hopelessly dated soprano saxophone solos. People will lean against tiled pillars, perusing their text messages and avoiding each other’s eyes until, lo!, they hear a familiar strain and can’t quite place it. Such musicality! Such expressiveness! What talent to draw out pure beauty from a song heretofore passed over by even the most nostalgic of music lovers! Unrecognizable, and yet immediately embraced by those weary denizens of rat-races and corporate ladders! Yea, even the Ugg-clad adolescents find they must lower the volume on their sonic devices to hear her rend her soul for the mere coins in her guitar case…
I should learn how to tune my guitar first.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
I fall down sometimes.
Especially when it's icy and gross outside, and the irresponsible/over-privileged citizens of Brookline and Boston don't clear their sidewalks.
The other day I did a split on some black ice. Well, it was more of a jack-knife maneuver than anything, but the result was the same searing muscle pain that comes from stretching a part of one's body that has not been stretched in, oh, say, ever.
Over the course of two days, I fell five times.
Other people fall down when it's icy. I just fall more. It's this here limp, y'see. It's the lack of control over my left foot. I think I'm fine and then I slip a little and can't get my muscles to do what they're supposed to and fwoop, "Mother EFFER!" Down I go.
At the moment I'm sitting in bed after my get-this-coffee-smell-offa-me shower and letting my scabs dry and heal while my knees are bent so they won't tear open when I go to walk. I remembered that trick from childhood playground injuries of yore.
My knees always looked like this in those days.
Although I did tan better back then.
The other day I did a split on some black ice. Well, it was more of a jack-knife maneuver than anything, but the result was the same searing muscle pain that comes from stretching a part of one's body that has not been stretched in, oh, say, ever.
Over the course of two days, I fell five times.
Other people fall down when it's icy. I just fall more. It's this here limp, y'see. It's the lack of control over my left foot. I think I'm fine and then I slip a little and can't get my muscles to do what they're supposed to and fwoop, "Mother EFFER!" Down I go.
At the moment I'm sitting in bed after my get-this-coffee-smell-offa-me shower and letting my scabs dry and heal while my knees are bent so they won't tear open when I go to walk. I remembered that trick from childhood playground injuries of yore.
My knees always looked like this in those days.
Although I did tan better back then.
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