I take a look back at the years. This kind of weather does it for me. There's a few passages in time I barely remember, like when I lived briefly in Plaistow, NH, or at least I think I lived there for a few months. It was right after I left Fremont, NH. I moved in with a couple of older guys who I didn't know who they were who needed a townhome-mate. I was working as a temp doing data entry for a few months in the summer and I was 21 and going absolutely nowhere. I remember getting my first Yamaha guitar upgrade (from a previous entry-level model second-hand) for a few hundred bucks since the one I got off of an old friend and bass player Scott Blondin had been stepped-on by some other roommates in Fremont to my infinite angst, the neck broken in twain. Repair was more than a new guitar. I tried to keep the body and slap-on a different neck, but a Horner electric neck doesn't fit onto a Yamaha's, so I sawed the neck to get it to fit. This ended up in failure despite my best efforts at the time, resulting in a new Yamaha guitar. I think I ended up trading that one at the Citadel Mall guitar-shop in Colorado Springs in 1993 for a brand new Ibanez Custom Saber for $1300 that took me half a year to pay for on lay-away when I was making $220 a week and had no car back in the USAF, learning about GPS. With respect for the difficulty of getting it, I still have it.
I was so unfocused then. My mind wandered around pointlessly and there was no future pre-USAF. I had no drive for anything and I felt the world owed me a career. Work, sleep, messing around with that Yamaha replacement (for a Yamaha) on ultra-low volume on a white, fuzzy Fender amp that hissed like bacon. I was worse than "Any way the wind blows" because I was more a "leaf" than a "bird". I couldn't ride the currents, I was pushed by them, eventually being thrown into some leaf-pile to rot like so many who thought getting a local-town gas-station job was a good idea. Dead-ends everywhere.
I kind of like my focus now. I can get things done pretty easily. Today, however, I feel a bit brain-dead. Graveyard shifts on-end can do that to you. Mountain Dew helps ease it, but I don't have any right now. I'll probably fetch some "Mountain Dewiage" before the night is over. My vision's gone a bit. I used to have 20/10 vision but now it's a mere 20/20. Small things are blurry as are distant things. My shoulder aches from motorcycling so viciously over the years, the last few I've backed-off my insanity considerably. Whiskey is a consolation for the aches in the weather-changes.
Blah blah blah, who cares? What's the point of all this?
Well, I found direction and dedication and focus through the USAF. It was a nice gift. No, I take it back, it was a nice trade for my time and a bit of my soul. I try to hook-up with other bands but to them, a hobby is something to be dropped. There's no love in it. No passion. Maybe fleetingly, but it fades for others. Not me though, and I'm frustrated with it. With them. With everyone else I meet as musicians. Lazy folk, the lot. Under-dedicated. Drives me crazy.
I had an opportunity recently to be in a band that played soft piano stuff, my role would be infinitely diminutive, but I had my job to do as a USAF contractor and it conflicted a bit. I requested 24-hour notice for show-times but that was dismissed and unrespected. I chose a steady, conservative paycheck over an unsure, not-my-style near-dream of being in a band. Over several days I weighed it, my heart vs. my mind. I played it safe and requested a re-show and reiterated I needed 24-hours of notice. Well, it's 36-hours out from a suspected possible re-show and I've received no notice. I figure it's dead, sadly. It's like an ugly chick that wants to go out with you that has nothing in common with you. Sure, haven't been on a date in whatever number of years, but then the girl calls you at like 2am after you've been up 36 hours and just went to sleep. Is it worth it, or is it empty? Well, it'd get the "haven't had a girlfriend in many years stink" off you, sure, but...
Ah, life.
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