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Ramming Speed

My guitar rests in its case, leaning up against the back of my office door. Every time I look at it I feel guilty, because I haven’t touched it in nearly 2 months. Haven’t stayed away from 6 strings ever, and I’m probably in for some serious finger-tip bleeding when the fast ends. But, like religious fanatics who flog themselves, I’ll feel I’ve earned the pain.

Sitting here now listening to Martin Sexton and wondering what could have been if the cards had been shuffled a different way. There’s so many things I’ve wanted to do but couldn’t, and so many things I should have done but didn’t. And now I’ve reached mid-life with graying hair on my head and face and a huge mortgage and driving a Toyota.

As my father’s illness progresses, it both saps my strength and forces me to become stronger…..which is an interesting scenario that I don’t wish on anyone but thought it worth passing on regardless. Alzheimer’s is the second most feared disease in America after cancer, and the fucking thing earns its high ranking.

Eventually, I’ll return to music, and surely with a vengeance. If only for my own peace of mind. I want to scrap everything I’ve done and start from scratch. I want to write different songs, not just new ones. If I can’t get out to play live shows I’ll schedule live streaming performances using a webcam. I’ll invite you all into my lair. How’d that be? Things are changing. Change or be changed.

Is this really me talking about change?

I guess so. And why not? Fear of the unknown has ruined all kinds of potential fun in this world. Tip your glass to what the Blues Brother’s called “ramming speed”.

In a bit…

–tf

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