In as many Fridays I may be taking the good old mandolin to be restrung, and then get restrung myself. I had cheaper strings put on last week and thought I could made do until the German made strings arrived. They did and I can't deal with the unnamed strings. I hope Big Dave at Marshall Music is working today. Off then to get a much needed haircut (my head feels heavy) and then run the mandolin in. I have a few guitar lessons to teach today and then maybe hit the jazz festival tonight if the weather holds. If not, visit with Patricia and call it good. If Big Dave is working I should be able to pick up my mandolin by 5:00.
Speaking of music, last night we saw Gordon Lightfoot. 75 years old and somewhat the worse for wear. Voice had lost a lot of strength but still good to hear the songs of my youth. When I attended the University of Detroit, during the end of the great folk revival coming on the heels of the folk rock movement, we saw a lot of the folk singers at a local club in Detroit I believe was called the Raven. Saw Josh White, Jr. there. Masonic Temple downtown, Joni Mitchell, Pine Knob, James Taylor. Oh, thems was the days. Especially when I was sober enough to enjoy it. I smoked enough marijuana and drank enough whiskey to float a ship. And still graduate from college in three years. Thems was the days. Couldn't handle that in grad school. Got my MA but burned and crashed during the first year of the PhD program. I know now that it was the early signs of bipolar and I was self-medicating. Age makes us all a little wiser. Knowing now what I know I would have pursued a different path, gone to a different graduate school and ended up where I am. But the steps I took made this the inevitable route of my life and even knowing things might have been different, I am happy. MSU is my family and I am ecstatic that I ended in this place, in this time, in this skin, with these experiences. How could it have been otherwise?
Music is the centerpiece of my life, my solace. Aaron, then Patricia, both tried and try to impinge on this. I stuck to my guns with Aaron with a predictable outcome. Headed that way with Patricia. I must tell her I can only come at most twice a week. It is hard, living in the same building as we do, to avoid her. The persistent phone calls. She is basically a shut in and basically dependent on others for contact with the outside world. I feel for her, but she is brusque and hard to deal with at times. When she is in a good mood, which isn't that often, she is good to be around. Otherwise, not so much. I worry about her. Right now I just need to spend more time with my music and writing. And getting a better handle on the mandolin. I play in the morning. I could really use more time at night playing and that is when she wants me to come down for Jeopardy, which I must say I am a whiz at having geared my education to that trivial show.
I haven't spoken about Hyphen Therapy. It is important in my life right now. It is important in that one must utilize it to free the self. The basic mantra is: Go Gentle and Breathe. Beyond that there is a liberal sprinkling of the F Bomb. So I might say to Gastric out of the blue, F**king A. Perhaps you might get the gist of the therapeutic usage of the word. It really works. I mean why piddle around calling the Rat Bastard Cousin that when you can tell him, therapeutically of course, F**k you?
Gonif the Cat, so named because he stole my heart, as he will yours, has come over for some much needed attention. You can only ignore the boys for so long. I must go as I need to practice some more and whip out the guitar to prepare for teaching today. You must excuse me.
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