Body Language

It started out innocently enough, as most things do that I don’t understand. This time I was waiting in line to order my sandwich and standing next to a young couple who seemed locked in a heavy discussion about the effects of water on our atmosphere. As she was explaining to him how there are little water particles EVERYWHERE even coming off our bodies when we’re just walking about, it made the first thing I wanted to do, be to sit right down next to them both so I could figure out what the hell this conversation was all about. I mean, where were we going with this, I wanted to ask. Of course coming into a conversation like that mid-stream felt a lot like catching a comedian half way already through his set—I knew it was gonna take a while to get to and understand the point.

The conversation darted around quite a bit, and of course by conversation I meant the one sided variety kind where one person talks and the other one agrees hoping to be able to get into her pants later on. It flew past naturopathy, evil pharmaceutical companies who withhold common everyday knowledge, the movement of water and water particles around the planet and then squarely sat itself down into a discussion about body building.

You see, she didn’t really start listening to her body until she started lifting weights, and this was when she began to change her whole idea about her body image and health and fitness.

By this time I had just sat down at the next table with my freshly made turkey sandwich in my hand and started getting ready to eat the lunch my brain has decided to allow my body to have.

Because in my world, with my body, it’s a whole different conversation: My body is constantly telling my brain what it wants. It wants chips, it wants chocolate. Gee, doesn’t a doughnut sound good right about now? What do you mean it’s late and you’re tired? We could have a snack and be back in bed before we even really wake up. I tell ya, listening to my body is a really, really bad idea. I spend most of my waking hours trying to get my brain to ignore what my body is telling it it needs.

Here were people, who when they listen to their bodies, are told that a fresh green salad (with a splash of dressing) would be just the thing for lunch. It was like I was sitting next to a whole other English speaking species. Similar, yet completely different.

Here’s what happens when my body starts talking.

Brain: Walking past a Taco Time billboard, quickly diverts eyes and fixes on a crack in the sidewalk.

Body: “HEY! what was that? did you see that? I thought I saw something! brain, BRAIN! HEY did you see that, I think it was a billboard with a taco….those are good, right? Hey, can we get a Taco? I really NEEEEED a taco, cause it’s been hours since we last ate, and that was just a little lunch anyway and besides it didn’t have enough lettuce or tomato in it and aren’t those things supposed to be good for us anyway and didn’t you say we were on a diet?”

Brain: “Were not having a taco.” crosses the street

Body: “Oh…were not? Dang…that’s to bad, cause I’m starting to get a little hungry, cause didn’t that Mexican food look good? What about a burrito? Doesn’t Taco Time make a good burrito? we could have that instead…you know, maybe even make it a healthy one if you want, though that would make it not taste as good, and really who knows when the next time is that we’d be able to get something else do eat…I mean, it could be a while right? We should make it to taste as good as we could, right?”

Brain: “Look, we just ate an hour ago, we’re on a diet here, so WE’RE NOT EATING! ok? Just drop it!”

Body: “ok, ok, SHEESH! Don’t have to blow a gasket or anything, I was just making a suggestion, but if you don’t feel like Mexican food, I mean that’s ok… we can find something else later maybe. Hey, hey! There’s a 7-11, we could stop in for an ice cream or a soda or a candy bar, you know, something small because we’re not really hungry right now…and, well, I could use a little chocolate right about now anyway. BESIDES... don’t we deserve a little treat for not getting that Taco thingie before? If you ask me, we really showed some restraint not getting Mexican food and I think that’s maybe a reason to celebrate, I mean don’t you? Hey, what’s your favorite kind of chocolate anyway? Mine is most defiantly…”

And so on and so on. This is the body that I listen too everyday, all day. When in the past I lifted weights or did a little jogging the whole focus was on NOT listening to my body. In fact the longer I could ignore what my body was telling me, the more successful the exorcize session would be.

If I listened to my body anymore than I already do, I’d be morbidly obese or dead by my 41st birthday, nodoutaboutit.

Introductions

Well it looks like the new guitar has found itself a home, mixed into the little stand of guitars that are part of the new dining room forest installation.

I introduced the guitar to the house in the same way one might introduce a new family pet to the old family pet.

Slowly…

At first I didn’t really let it out of it’s case, instead I let the other guitars sense it’s presence to help them grow accustomed to the idea of a new guitar in the house. I wanted them to know that this new guitar posed little or no threat to our established relationship. After a few days I began to pull the guitar out of it’s case and play it a bit. Up to that point I was still unsure if the new guitar was gonna fit in. I mean, what if the other guitars didn’t like it and were mean to it or something?

Sweetie was the first to mention that she liked the sound of it. We’ve never had a twelve-string guitar in the house before and so I don’t think she really knew what that meant until I played it. With Sweeties acceptance the other guitars seemed to come about much quicker. I pulled another stand out of the garage and put it next to the other guitars to see what their reaction would be. Fortunately it seemed to fit in almost immediately and before long the guitar felt as much a part of the house as any of my other instruments do.

I’ve got the name and number of a good luther in town who I’m hoping can adjust the neck a bit, as years of neglect seem to have rendered it a little hard to play. Other than the neck, it’s in remarkable shape for a guitar that’s older than I am. The nearest I can tell is that the guitar was built between 62 and 64 as it doesn’t appear in the 1961 Goya catalogue and in the 1965 catalogue the finger dots are in a different configuration. The serial number seems to state that it was built in 1948, but that couldn’t be since the company that made Goya guitars didn’t call them Goya’s until 1958.

It came with what appears to be it’s original cardboard case with red lining, and while the clasps still work, the cardboard seems to be starting down the hill towards a bad end.

Lately, Sweeties been threatening to put a real dining room table in our dining room and if this happens I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this stand of guitars that I’ve created. As any of you out there who play guitar know, the guitar that’s out and handy is the guitar that gets the most action. I imagine if this table thing happens, the guitars will just move to the family room. Perhaps we’ll even have the new addition started by that point and space will not be such an important factor as it is now.

In other music news, tomorrow should be a fun show at the Swiss Tavern. I’ve asked my friend Darren from Last Chance Romeos to come and play some lap steel on a few songs with us. We had our first practice all together last night and the lap steel adds a beautiful environment that the music seems to just hang in. We should be going on between 8:30 and 8:45 so I hope some of you can make it out.

On a sadder musical note, Panamonica’s is soon going to be no longer and hence, are having their farewell party this Saturday night. I’m going to miss going to open mics there, as well as the decent food and a nice atmosphere. It was also the one place I could get Blue Paddle Pilsner on tap.

You know, that, I might miss most of all…

Goya Guitar

Yeah, it’s been a while. I needed a little time off to recharge the batteries as I usually do this time of year. This site always slows down about now anyway, perhaps because of the sunshine, or the fact that due to summer vacation, there are more children underfoot, or that people prefer being outside or watching reruns on TV or just getting away from the great world wide web to clean their senses and wash their souls clean.

Besides, I haven’t had much I’ve felt like sharing these past few weeks anyway. Sweetie and I have been dealing with a lot of death and dying, struggling to catch our breath in the sea of stress we are currently finding ourselves in.

Somehow it feels like to write about it, trivializes it to some degree, and to ignore it makes the events of the past few weeks seem like a dream or untrue. And so what I wind up doing is a lot of writing and not much posting. Before I realize what’s happened, a whole month has passed without an update to the site and so here I sit at the Wednesday truck stop with a few moments to spare before heading back to the mobile home to take Ike to the grocery store, hoping that I can spit out enough sentences to make an update worthwhile.

If they’re all as long as that last one, this could take a while.

My trip to Vegas is still looming in the distance, though not as far and abstract as it once was. I’ve had a busy month performing, with two shows down and two more to go by the end of the month. I’ve got three quarters of the band with me next Thursday night at The Swiss Tavern and that will be the first time I’ve played there with musicians backing me up. I’ve also booked a show on the 28th at this here truck stop, if just for a change of venue.

The woman that cares for Ike during the day has brought over her uncles twelve string Goya guitar because he’s interested in selling it. Goya was made in Sweden, with bracing similar to the Martin. This guitar seems to have been built in the early 60’s, and while it sounds nice and bright, the action on the neck is pretty high. I might take it in just to see if that can be fixed. If I could get the neck straightened and get the price down a little bit, I think it would be nice to add another guitar to my collection. The sound of a twelve string guitar always reminds me of 70’s rock ballads, but that sound is unique and I would be fun to pick up now and again.