The boot

May be drawing near again.  I finally was able to make an appointment with someone at East Lansing Orthopedics Association, kinda the legal team of orthopedists.  However my appointment is Friday at 8 a.m. (sorry JB) and depending on the outcome, which I think will either be another MRI or PT or both, we may proceed to breakfast and then back to work for me.  But the foot, like Cinderella's slipper and the striking of the midnight hour may turn me back into a booted pumpkin.  I am just sick unto death of the pain and the awkwardness.  And I need to change the bed AGAIN as someone has taken it upon himself to soil the sheets with, how do you say, an emetic substance.  But the sheets are soiled.  Off they go this afternoon.  But first I pick up my MRI CD to take to my orthopedic appointment tomorrow and I must come home and to meet with a Glickman about Jammin' Jews.

 Now I have a slight problem with playing.  Seems I have been playing so much after not playing for several weeks that my callouses are now mere blisters causing me some degree of discomfort when playing.  The mandolin teacher thinks I should pop then to hasten their return to callousness.  I say moderate playing will turn the mush to a callous faster.  We shall see who is more correct in their approach to the problem.

As for the Glickman, well, I don't know what to expect.  What I am hoping is that we can get two sets of a music playlist that I can practice and rehearse.  Maybe the first set more traditional and old school and the second 20th century folk music, from Yip Harburg (Brother can you spare a dime?) to some from Fiddler on the Roof (oh, don't make me do Sunrise, Sunset) and then some Steve Goodman ( a nice Jewish boy who wrote City of New Orleans) to Carole King and Paul Simon.   And then have the planned dessert in between the two sets.  So that is how I see it happening.  I have a whole slew of music books we can go through, plus online via the reliable iPad.  But say learning twenty to thirty songs in two months, well, all I can say is I will need some help and some good callouses.

And now it is off to the library...

So now I am at the library listening to Bach and just over the sound of my headphones, which, by the way, are not noise cancelling (oh, why, oh, why) is the lovely lilting sounds of MPT clearing her throat every few seconds (or so it seems).  MUST MAKE MUSIC LOUDER (or get noise cancelling headphones, which would make hearing the phone ring a near impossibility).  Besides, the only sound that truly annoys is the constant throat clearing.  Maybe she should smoke a little less of the wacky tabacky at night.  I am just saying...

Ah, Bach...