Half A Mile
Wednesday. Crossroads 2010 was about what I expected last night, a mixed bunch of blues dudes and dudettes with one or two guitar players I'd not heard before but whom I need to hear again. That's worth the price of the ticket maybe tenfold if I actually track their music down and listen to it. Lots of Fender Stratocasters. A Gibson and a Martin or two, but otherwise they were all playing various models of the Strat. I sat down real close to the screen and found myself studying how they held their hands, where they put their thumbs and such while playing. The beginner's book is quite explicit on where to put your thumb, for example, noting however that some of the better known guitar players cheat on this a bit. A number of these guys were indeed cheating a bit. But we learn. One note at a time. Diddle-dee-dime.
Still, I hadn't been to this shopping area or the sixteen screen theater in Emeryville before. The parking garage is directly connected to the theater entrance and the experience of having to park and find the theater was really easy. I may try this again. A picture or two as I was leaving. Nothing special, but I may go back (with a camera) and do it again.
It's now after breakfast and the papers, having futzed with this computer and its various settings again. Something went wacko some time back and pulling the pieces together has taken some time. I hate to think what someone without a computer background must go through with this kind of thing other than paying money to the local computer shop. Well, actually I don't hate to think about that at all, I'm too wrapped up in my own little struggles here. Not much to say about my attitude is the thought, but honesty is the best policy as long as you don't broadcast it too much.
You're off the tracks again.
Indeed. Let's see how this day goes. We have pictures to take (as we always have pictures to take) and guitar practice should be interesting after seeing all those musicians play like they were born to it, starting playing at the age of six and skipping school, meals and maybe breathing in place of practice, practice, practice. We are a bit overly focused here on this stuff ourself, but not to the point of missing meals or oxygen. We are wacko, but not that wacko. At least I hope.
Later. Reality check. A walk down to the bus stop seeing I'd arrived early so I walked the bus route figuring to get in a little walking before catching the bus some half mile down. Feeling a bit crappy I sat at one of the bus stop benches until I realized I had a low level ocular migraine coming on. OK, maybe going downtown was not the best idea I'd had in a while so a walk back home with a couple of stops to sit and wonder at it all. Back to the apartment, to bed for about thirty minutes, all now seems to be swell.
So, a reality check. I have the follow-up appointment with the neurologist tomorrow so the timing is right. The thing itself will be right up there in my mind, anyway, when we meet. The eye doctor went over in detail what ocular migraines were about, how long they last and such. About thirty minutes seems to be the average, which is good if one is out and about. Sitting somewhere for thirty minutes can usually be arranged. But still, I'd better watch what I eat for breakfast and maybe the night before more closely, last night after the Clapton movie having been a bit out of line what with the sour Skittles and such.
So, some guitar practice after getting up. I'm playing Ode To Joy much better these last two sessions, maybe get it locked in tight by the end of the day or tomorrow. The little guitar stand I ordered is due tomorrow, the guitar itself Friday. We have a bit of anticipation building in our little gut and the attitude otherwise is good until we look at our Visa statement. Gotta do something about that Visa statement.
Maybe lunch, now, it's almost two o'clock. Lunch-dinner. We have put on a couple of pounds as we were hoping to do, but no more than a couple, I think, to keep this new world on its axis and the various new smaller waist size pants I now have comfortable. Of course I still have many another larger sized sets stashed in the back of the closet. Lunch, I was thinking, what can be done for lunch? I'd worry about all this carping as a harbinger for weight to come if I had an appetite. Still can't think of anything I'd want to eat, be willing to get up and go out, get and eat, and that keeps me hermetically safe from anything too drastic in the weight department.
Later still. A walk down to deposit a Medicare check at the ATM. I haven't had this happen before where they send you their portion of the medical charges instead of sending it to the lab, but I've heard of it. I'm more flush at least until the bill comes from the lab and then I'm in trouble. A walk farther along to have a sandwich at the usual place, a walk back stopping three times to sit on a convenient bench or chair. Probably not a good sign, wanting to sit, perhaps needing to sit, when walking but half a mile.
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