Monthly Archives: May 2010

It

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Well I am better today. Still a little bit nervous about tomorrow and the return to school. Last night was a bit of a low until I took half a Xanax and then things got mellow. The melancholy edge was gone but it still didn’t help me enjoy (500) Days of Summer.

It simply wasn’t as good as I had hoped it would be and I do like both Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon Levitt. I just didn’t care for it, the story or the characters. I watched the news after that then a repeat of the last episode of last season’s True Blood. Now that was good.

After that I was off to bed where I slept quite soundly. I don’t recall any specific dreams from last night but the night before I did have a dream involving the family dog, Bojo, from when I was growing up.

Bojo was quite a neurotic dog and the only person in my family that he actually liked was my mother. That was because she was the one who fed him all the time. In the dream he was quite a friendly dog and living with Bill and I in the apartment and he would slip and slide on the tile floors.

I made a note of it, waking up and writing it down in the notebook I keep next to the bed.

I woke up this morning with Bill walking into the bedroom after returning home from yet another bus driving gig to and from Atlantic City. He was checking in on me since I seemed so morose when we last talked.

I woke up and showered as Bill sat on the couch and watched Wacky Races in the Cartoon Network. I woke up in my usual crabby mood, but still it was better than last night. Bill went to bed and I was out on the street after a couple of cups of coffee to get some milk for my cereal.

On my way down I saw the door to Julio & Stine’s apartment slightly ajar. I knocked and Stine came out and told me Julio and Alexander were at the park. I headed there and talked to Julio and pushed Alexander on a swing which is something I always wanted to do, push Alexander on a swing and talk to Julio. Or vice versa.

Got the milk and the paper and came home and had a nice breakfast. For some, the Memorial Day weekend is the start of summer, for me it’s like the end of summer and I’m going back to school tomorrow. And by school I mean work.

Bill woke up a few hours later when I had Zoolander on. Bill had never seen it before and loved it. Really loved it, so much that he was howling. It is a silly movie and enjoyable. I suggested we take a walk around Hoboken which is something we should do more often.

I gave Roda a call since he mentioned he was having a cookout today and he invited us over. Lot’s of people and family there and we were most welcome. I had two and a half spiked punches and was feeling a nice buzz.

After an hour or so we said our goodbyes to Roda and his family and had a nice dinner at Arthur’s. We would have eaten at the cookout but Bill wasn’t particularly hungry at that time. After walking around Hoboken some more he was hungry.

It rained a bit while we were in the restaurant but had stopped after we ate so we continued our walk around Hoboken, on Pier A. I spotted the dreaded Mister Softee and had to express my feelings somehow. It seemed most apt.

Now we’re home. Lawn Hors d’œuvre Criminal Malcontent is on so Bill is happy. Me? I’m anxious about tomorrow and the new job. Perhaps a cigar will be relaxing.

It Was a Pleasure Then

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Well I just got back from strumming the guitar by Pier A in Hoboken for what may very well be the last time. In the 6 months I’ve been doing that, I think I have gotten somewhat better playing the guitar. I made about $6.00 the whole time I’ve been doing that.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t in it for the money. It does get discouraging though, being ignored. Each time I would strum by the pier, I would post my intentions on Facebook, holding out the hope that someone that I know would stop by.

Rand and Lisa stopped by and Juan Melli. No one else as far as I can remember. And no one stopped by today. Maybe they’re out of town or doing something fun.

Before I headed out this afternoon, I asked Bill to walk by when he headed back to the train since he’s driving a bus again tonight but not even he stopped by. I wasn’t expecting him to sit down, just a passing by, a hello would have been nice. He was somewhat groggy from napping so it more than likely did not register.

It was a beautiful day for playing and I had a good 20 minutes before that bacteria ridden spawn of Satan, Mister Softee pulled up about 15 feet behind me with it’s diesel engine drowning me out. Moving wasn’t an option since I had settled in, so I stood my ground, or rather sat on a bench.

For me, when I am walking around with my iPod on I usually take the ear buds out when I see a busker playing. If not giving them money, some respect should suffice. But that’s me and in the time I’ve been strumming in public, hardly anyone else does it.

Walk by, stay plugged in and do not look at that guy playing guitar. Not very encouraging. I don’t know what I’m looking for and I suppose playing guitar in public is not it. It’s safe to guess that my public performance career is over.

The anxiety I’ve felt with regards to the new job has waned, replaced by the feeling of ‘at least it’s something to do’.

Of course on the way home I see notices for a Tom Waits evening at a local pub. It’s a benefit and people are encouraged to sing Tom Waits songs. That’s something that would be right up my alley but now I have a job and I don’t know what the hours would be so it’s likely that I wouldn’t be able to attend much less perform.

And the performing thing is iffy since I do require a modicum of physical encouragement, and by physical I mean having a friendly face there for reassurance.

Today wasn’t all bad playing by the pier. I did make fleeting friends with a bloke named Dave who was with his toddler daughter. The toddler was transfixed and also terribly shy with my guitar playing.

If a toddler is fascinated by the guitar I usually hold it out for them to give it a strum while I make a chord formation but she was hiding behind her father as I played So It Goes by Nick Lowe which Dave knew.

We talked for a few minutes about vinyl records and Maxwells before he and his daughter were on their way.

Maybe I’m just grouchy from not eating. I just ate and I do feel a bit better. But I am still discouraged with my guitar playing.

Perhaps it will be best that I stay inside and play from now on, like I’ve been doing for the past 25 years. I think I’d rather be alone at home than alone with people around. I can safely say that I’ve gotten over my fear of playing guitar in front of people.

Bill just called to check in. My suggestion that he walk by on the way to the train did not register as I suspected. I didn’t bring it up and neither did he. He did note the melancholy in my voice and asked what was wrong.

I told him my disappointment with playing today and in general. He tried to be supportive but for me it was too late. I explained (like I did above) that I’ve gotten better with my guitar playing and my fear of playing in front of people has largely subsided.

To Bill that wasn’t enough, not enough of a reason to play in the first place and how I hoped for a friendly face to stop by and say hi did not make sense to him at all. My feeling of loneliness escapes him as he drives down to Atlantic City, leaving me alone once again.

I think the lack of encouragement for playing guitar throughout my life was a major factor in my hesitance to play outside my apartment. The feeling of not being good enough, from showing someone a song I had learned and playing it for them and then hearing, ‘That’s not how it goes’ even though it sounded just fine to me. And my exclusion from some friends projects was also a contribution.

That’s how I feel right now. Maybe in an hour I’ll feel better. Maybe tomorrow. In any event I wouldn’t mind this weekend being over.