WEEK (weak) 21
Here we go again.
You know how you get in a rut and it goes on for so long that you just can’t stand it anymore? This week I decided I’d better get moving again before I turn into dust. A good sleep does wonders.
Well I got myself up to start the week and a nice guitar arrived at my door via Expedited Mail Services. A candy grape delight called Jaguar. It is loaded with humbuckers instead of the traditional single coil pickups. Nice axe -- I’m having fun struggling with the intonation.
Everyday I play human pincushion. I’ve become as used to it as can be expected but still twinge little at the thought of having to deal with it.
As weak as I feel, I know I must become active again. Even (especially) the yoga is a struggle, and I don’t feel like I can do it justice until I regain some strength. It’s downright scary. My body isn’t too bad, but if you looked at my limbs you’d wonder what in the hell happened. I kind of look like one of those Don Martin characters that appeared in Mad Magazine back in the sixties: potato torso, wiener arms and legs, hair going in electrostatic directions. It isn’t like the movies in which a guy decides to make a change and the film suddenly catapults through a sequence of speed motion scenes of him running on a track, lifting weights furiously, chowing on salads and doing jumping jacks in front of the TV watching Carmen Electra workout.
Other than that, I’m happy enough.
I was looking at a poster depicting a Ronald Reagan commemorative stamp while standing in line at the post office today. My God, it seems no matter what any of these lunatics did in the service of our nation, it’s ok, and… they get a stamp! It’ll be interesting to see how the future glamorizes Bush’s moment of torching the countryside for heretics and dissenters. Now for old Bill Clinton, he gets the black ball yet he’s the best of the lot. Like Henry VIII, Clinton and Henry suffer prejudice attached to a sexually loaded situation. Henry VIII created separation of church and state. Is that bad? Sex…mmm…good.
Oh, I’m sure Bill will get his stamp some day. History may forget the “B.J,” in time, but maybe not. People love that stuff. It’s what everybody loves to talk about, especially if it’s someone else. I want him to get a stamp because of it!