The World Right
Wednesday. It took a while to get to sleep last night I'm afraid, but up with the alarm to head out to breakfast, picking up a tank of gas on the way back home. The trip down to L.A. turns out to be about one tank of gas (fifteen gallons) if you're keeping a decent speed on a highway, not something particularly worth noting you'd think, but pretty exciting knowledge around here.
I noticed the pandoreas were having their last day as I was leaving. They deserved a better memorial picture, but there was a guy and his rabid dog Spot sitting right there on the opposite side of the trellis and I was in a hurry, no time for tetanus shots.
A lunch date with Ms. R in San Francisco this noon hour, maybe catch a nap beforehand if I feel it needed. You'd think I'd feel tired. I'd think.
Later. A bus to the ATM, a walk and then a BART ride to the city and lunch with Ms. R at a nearby Japanese restaurant. Very nice, I haven't seen Ms. R in a while, brings back good memories. We exchanged our tales and it was nice to see how things were going.
Back now at the apartment after a quick nap, sleep finally catching up with me, so the rest of the day to be spent listening to the news in the background as I'm futzing with the guitar. Although I spent enough time practicing yesterday, the structure of my practice was a little sloppy, so we'll go through the exercises properly this afternoon, making it a point to tie together all of the individual parts.
I'm bad in that I practice these things piecemeal, going over and over a particular riff, but not entering and exiting the riff through the connecting rhythm sections, probably not something that makes any sense the way I put it here. It might not make sense to a real guitar player either.
Later still. OK, the world is back in focus. A brief dry mouth - “what's going on” - episode back there encouraging me to take that nap, hard to say what it was, up and about soon after without apparent effect, so here we are, I guess, back in Oakland.
Evening. An Italian police procedural that's just watchable at six while playing along (for about half the time) on the guitar, my progress slow, really slow, my fingering, um, intermittent. I'm not sure if everyone's progress is as slow as mine, doesn't really matter at this stage, but if it is I can see what they say about some of the real guitar masters who lived, breathed, slept, had lunch and shat on the throne all the while practicing. For years and years.
I think I'll sleep in tomorrow morning, see if that doesn't put the world right.
|
