The Guitar Lesson

Me: "People suck."
Guitar Teacher: "Yes they do.(pause) Want to play some guitar?"
Me: " Yes I do."

So we did.

The Space Between

It is Tuesday. Which means it is Guitar Day, one of my two favorite days of the week. But it is the in between time. Usually I kick a lot of creative writing into this space between the day job and the guitar lesson, but today I’m feeling bloggy. I keep checking the time every 5 minutes like a kid waiting for the last bell to ring before summer vacation. I really need my guitar class tonight. Given that I am prone to such things guitar is turning into a true obsession. I played for hours each day this past weekend and as I type this the ache in my fingers confirms that we are tipping over into madness. Last night I played until my fingers cramped. Think I might need to dig out the extra strength Ibuprofen before class.

I am in love with guitar. Last night I was really, really upset about something late at night, too late to call anyone who loves me on the phone so I played as I cried and then my tears dried and I played some more. I love it because it is so hard and so beautiful because music makes sense and no sense all at the same time. Too much guitar though, I’d already played 2 hours that day. See, I just checked the time again – it is 7 minutes after the last time I looked.

Okay back from Ibuprofen break and a wee peek at prices of high-end Flamenco Guitars. Yikes! How bout an Archangel Blanca whose price is not listed but the next couple down the shelf are in the 10Gs range. I’ve been coveting a 3G Larrivee hitherto. Well, since at the moment I can only play part of one Flamenco piece I guess we likely won’t have to worry about that for a while. Still I have played a friends Flamenco guitar in the past and liked the lighter action and bright sound, also slightly smaller for my hands.

Wow what a geek. I am blogging about guitars. When did I turn into a teenaged boy? Yippee, I get to pack up now since I want to be at the store early to check out some Flamenco sheet music.

Things that I am thinking.

Historically Easter has never been my favorite holiday. Historically, massive amounts of time in very depressing church services. Historically, ham and scalloped potatoes for dinner, neither on my list of favorite foods. Historically, massive deadlines and crazy overtime writing up proposals. Historically, given my trials and tribulations with my weight since puberty very skimpy on the chocolate egg side of things. And dressing in bright prints sunny colors – that has been me when? Oh, yah. When playing a character on stage. Usually one with not much going on between the ears.

I am a fan of the hot crossed bun though, yes I am.

Strangely this was one of my best ever. Much writing. Much reading. Much going to the gym. Crazy good guitar. Great family time. No depressing church services and struggle with the whole resurrection thing. Do I believe in it? Yes. I guess I really do. More fool I, the scientist in me says.

Funny though, how I haven’t seen the family more or less since Christmas and yet no one commented on my weight loss which is not minor. I did get one nice hair comment. While I recognize I have a long way to go, buff wise, it did bother me a bit. No matter. The Omen has been refereeing 80 games of B-ball this year. He is looking trimmer and fitter and happier than I’ve seen him in many a long year. And Mouse is as thin and fit as she was at 18 – gorgeous. Mom too looking fit and while rightly having a hard time following the cacophony of conversation. Hey peeps, think I have a commanding voice? I come by it honestly, let me tell you.

Weird and fun talking good Scotch with my oldest nephew. He’s not tried my current fav – Oban. He was also profoundly skeptical about my assertion that anything aged over 15-16 years is pure marketing. It was not until I invoked a higher power – our Genius Cousin – that he began to consider my case might have merit.

I am thinking many more things, but chief among them is my day of writing tomorrow. I am really looking forward to it. Oh, jeepers, need to remember to read that script for Hoosie too. Okay its looking like a full pot of coffee day tomorrow, better cut the mix with some decaf.

This was a profoundly pedestrian post. I did plan on sharing a bunch more thoughts but then got bored with myself and decided to wander off and read my "Your Brain on Music" book. Which is about music and neuroscience. Cool huh? I also watched Elvis Costello's "Spectacle" TV show 'cause Bono and The Edge were on. And you are going to either groan or lol but who did I spot in the studio audience but Remigio Pereira Canadian Tenor and one of my personal guitar gods. Well, I laughed, not sure why it's funny but it is.

Color me frustrated.

I’ve been kicking it hard for almost 10 hours trying to bang out the pilot outline for Rain Girls. Definitely one of those occasions when quality of work is not directly measured by quantity of words. That is 10 Pomodoros worth of focused effort (www.pomodorotechnique.com) and at nearly 8 p.m. time for a dinner break. I seem to be trying to write the perfect five pages but keep finding that I need to write out much more in order to figure out what is happening and then go back and summarize for the outline. Other wise the story starts to get away from me and the wrong points end up in the outline beats. So it is more like I’m writing out a super detailed treatment then testing it against the loglines then summarizing. Argggh. Act one nearly killed me because I have this huge chaotic scene in the school parking lot that intros all the main characters and hints at the inter personal alliances and conflicts of all the main characters as well as element of the A,B and C story lines.

So the good news is that I know what happens through to the end of the fourth Act. So I’ve decided to stop being such a Nazi with myself and just describe everything I see and hear in my minds eye, everything I know about the plot and the points where the characters conflict and just try and get it all out of me as fast as I can. Then tomorrow I will have to go back and sort it all out. Yes, I know, isn’t that what I should of done in the first place? Yes, it is. Thanks for pointing that out. Really helps at the end of a long day of fingers banging on keys.

So I will eat something then lock the Editor Nazi up in her cell and sit down for 5 more Pomodoros tonight and just write the whole thing as fast as I can. Think the fingers might need a hot soak and some Advil after that, but it must be done. Wish me well.

Things I am Reading

I am re-reading "The Geography of Bliss" by Eric Wiener for book club - it is my pick and i have to lead the discussion so therefore I feel obligated to re-read and remind myself why I am subjecting the E-litteratii to it. Interesting every single time any of us goes to spell the name of our book club the - E-litre-atti it gets a new treatment.

I am reading "This is your Brian on Music" by Daniel J. Levitin - given to me to read by my guitar teacher, surely one of the Nephilim - that's your word for the day, so look it up! For his genius and his patience. Still ever and always the highlight of my week the time I spend with him, and not in a creepy "I have a crush on him" kinda way, not that I don't or couldn't or whatever. The music is the thing people. And if you know me at all you know that a man with mastery of words, music or movement pretty much has my pure and unadulterated hero worship. Also men who are good at fishing and take out the garbage and recycling without being asked. But I digress. Because i can and because it is what I do and because it is Tuesday. Because of guitar the happiest day of the week next to Friday. I really should go to bed.

I am also reading "Anathem" by Neal Stephenson and dipping into "Writing the TV Drama Series" by Pamela Douglas. And finishing up the very racy "Venus and Adonis" by Bill Shakespeare.

Now are you wondering why I never married and never answer my phone? Didn't think so.

Sight Reading Sucks

I had to untwist the guitar strap tonight. It is at moments like that which force me to stop my hell bent for leather stampede to self-destruction and untwist. I wonder where that comes from “hell bent for leather”. No matter. This eve finds me in a bad, bad, bad mood. The kind of mood where it really should be illegal for me to write a blog post. The kind of mood which my heirs of the next century will find a treasure trove of files under “blog” with the screaming after title “NOT POSTED”.

Have I mentioned how much I hate sight reading music? Closely followed by the tick of the metronome? I tell ya, if that metronome function hadn’t been on my iPhone but rather on a real metronome – that fracking thing would’ve been thru the window days ago. Yah. I know sight reading is good for me in the same way that broccoli is good for me. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, and I don’t. So be warned I just sight read 4 pieces of music badly and feel like the stupidest piece of dog doo in the neighbourhood. Have I improved after a week of this scratching a fork along the inside of my thigh? Not in the slightest. I also still hate broccoli after nearly 40 years of choking it down so go figure.

And yes, thank you I know what I should be doing right now and what I should be writing and yet I’m not. I am sitting here wearing glasses smeared with what? That have just been freshly masking taped together and so I suddenly find myself facing that what shall I do? New glasses or new contact lenses? Both needed and now with the glasses held together with masking tape – just not a very impressive look. Thus a component of my cranky. Money for one, not for both. I must chose style over function – look at me on the horns of a dilemma. I also don’t know where that comes from, but boy it works for me.

By the way, who knew that spell check recognizes a correct way to spell “crankiness”?

Now, as I try and figure out what to do next. What I can do that will make me happy and shift this black mood? All choices don’t appeal. I don’t want to eat or drink or sleep or bathe or clean up or play guitar or read or watch TV or write or listen to music. And did I mention the guy across the hall flooded his place and the restoration dudes are running noisy fans at a quarter of ten? The thing I do want to do is not PG thirteen and not available to me tonight anyway, since I have to save my cash for new glasses.

Alright. I’m going to brush my teeth, drink some water and browse crazy expensive jewelry web sites. Followed by a search for a very high-end men’s white dress shirt that might fit me – but must have French cuffs.Why? Is a topic for another blog. Then lights out but not until I list 50 things I feel grateful for. Sort of letting me off easy because between the immediate family (10) book club (5) work peeps (8) sisters of the pen (17) flash forward peeps (4) and biz peeps (4) I think I’m there, oh and how could I forget my former co-worker/client posse – (15) okay getting silly now.

Opps. Was that a little smile trying to take over the corners of my mouth? I believe it was.

Who bought the nitrate free turkey dogs?

So I come home from a long challenging week at work. I put my judgmental brain on auto pilot, change into work out clothes, grab a clean towel, iPhone and headset and am off to the gym. Now realize I am pooped. Going from being as sick as I was back to full throttle when nobody had done nothing on my stuff since I left for vacation is enough to put you on the sick list again. Nevertheless, I sucked it up buttercup (yeah me!) and gave a good solid week of work to both the day job and the dream job. So how I got myself to the gym was by promising I could order pizza post workout. I have a workout full of the usual hi’s (look at me! I am killing this) and lo’s (crap am I going to make it past 15 min?) and then realize upon return that if I want guilty indulgence there is that 6 pack of KD I bought (for the first time since college) and I’m pretty sure if you combine that with the hot dogs in the freezer and a large martini, you will feel sufficiently decadent unto the day.

Thing is, I’d inadvertently bought the whole wheat pasta white cheddar version, to which I had already decided to add the cauliflower left over from the book club veggie tray, because everyone knows the best way to get me to eat vegetables is to add butter or cheese. So off I go wooo- hooo but the time I stir it all together with a clove of organic garlic, 2T of low-fat organic milk, one T of unsalted butter, 1.5 cups cauliflower, 1 cup of baby spinach I’m thinking okay at least the hotdogs are a Friday night indulgence till I catch sight of the packaging waiting for the bin – turkey dogs – nitrate free. WTF?

So I determine to EAT the WHOLE Thing. Which I don't. So what? Now my night of indulgence turns into a healthy portion controlled menu? Hmmmffff.