A SIMPLE SENSE OF SANITY WILL DO

Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week I’m bringing a whole new dilemma to the table. On Friday night, I woke myself up from the couch and headed to bed. But I did something stupid. I turned the lights out before I got there and fell into the bathroom door frame. I gave myself a concussion along with a big shiner. That’s been quite the laugh for everybody. Except me.

Anyway, I had a beautiful Easter dinner at Michelle and Dean’s place. Terrence, the bass player from the band was invited, Dean’s brother showed up, and two of their sons were in from Edmonton. It was a really good time.  I felt very small: they were all very tall people. Until I put on my boots, and then I felt good again. (Love my boots!)

Back to the grind on Wednesday. We have a live show on Friday. (And I have a conclusion. I mean a concussion). Everyone is excited to get back together.

The weather is cooperating now. If people could just get jobs, we’d be laughing. I can’t be rich and famous if nobody’s working! That’s it.

Michelle’s wearing red socks and I like that. We’re both tired from the big dinner and the big party yesterday, so until next week, enjoy.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.

A LONELY WALK TO THE TOP

How-to-Hold-Drum-Sticks-Traditional-Grip-vs.-Matched-Grip

Maybe it was just one of those things. Ryan Boone thought different. Grey day, wind; another mishap, I suppose, on an endless climb up.

Our Ryan has paid his dues. Showed up in every dark place to play. Smoky bars, strangers…my goodness, nothing but strangers. This Ryan Boone–our Ryan Boone–sixteen, pimply-faced, yet handsome in a  young way. Alone.

Scared? No. More…excited. Yes. You got it. He’s an up and coming star. He holds on to that. Borrowed a union card and a story. Oh, our Ryan is ready. He is a drummer, just so you know. He has carried his two drumsticks forever, though forever stands on its own. One is big, and one is thin. No problem for Ryan.

Now all those many years have passed. He has the scars.

If only he could stop sweating. Nowhere to run. Excuse me. Pardon me. Oh, I see. Lights. Now action. Too late. Show time.

That’s all.

(NEVER EVER GIVE UP).

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By jamesghutcheson

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