9:58 a.m. - 2006-06-23
cracks: no more!!
There are people climbing the walls of our house, mere feet away from where I'm sitting. It's a little unnerving, even though we invited, nay, hired them, to paint our house. I finally patched the last visible exterior stucco cracks yesterday and today they're finishing up the trim (purple sass!) and maybe starting on the walls (mercury! Sort of off-white, I think it more or less matches the lath I've been using for patching. Because the cracks will come back and essentially I'll be patching them FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. But still, I like having an old stucco house. The walls have an amazingly varied texture, each one a different tactile experience. Cracks or no, it beats the shit out of vinyl.). The only thing is, all week long I haven't had anything to do outside the house during the day when the painters were here, so I've mostly been hanging around, trying to get some practicing done, and feeling really self-conscious about the fact that people outside the house can hear my every note. If they're paying attention. Which they're probably not. But still, I do have the tendency toward self-consciousness.
Meanwhile, we're getting a new couch today, which we've already picked out and paid for, and now we only have to pick it up. No cracks, fresh paint and a new couch. That's right: Kia and I have graduated to SUPER-Homeowners. Please feel free to stop by sometime and marvel at the splendor in which we live.
But be fore-warned: once you sink into our comfy and prodigious sofa, you'll never want to get up again. Your life will start anew on our couch. Obligations will be abandoned, family forgotten, you will change such that the old you will be as a mysterious stranger. Are these steps you're willing to take? If not, best stay away from the couch.
But it hasn't been ALL plaster and couches. Earlier this week I got to play in Iowa for the first time. Dubuque, to be exact, in a bar that's in the basement of an old mansion that's supposedly haunted. With the new, straightahead band Executive Tea Set. I play vibes, and it's a big challenge since I don't have a lot of experience playing music that's full of different chords, or "changes" as jazzmen like to say. The other guys in the band are very good, and whenever we get together I leave with a sense that I'm sort of the weak link of the band. Which is okay, since it compels me to work harder to sound gooder. I'm gonna go home and practice REALLY HARD, I think to myself.
But then I also think to myself, What if I practice really hard and don't get any better, boy that would suck, spending all that time, and for what, I'm thirty-seven now, I've got to be careful about how I spend my time, as I'm getting on in years and any moment could be my last. Do I really want to spend my last minutes on earth practicing vibes? On the other hand, what else have I got to do? It's at this point that I have to yell at my brain to just shut the hell up already. Stupid brain. In any case, the people in Dubuque seemed to thoroughly enjoy and appreciate our music, which made the hour-and-a-half drive worthwhile. Apparently they don't get lots of jazz there in Dubuque. Also, the back of the stage was decorated with a monkey spine.
Put your expectations on hold when traveling to Iowa, Jim; that's my advice.
NEXT: More about the couch
