June 18, 2009
We sat in Dairy Queen
eating mouthfuls of our treats.
(Mine happened to be a Oreo Fudge Earthquake,
well something like that.
Yes I know, very fattening,
but I made sure to share with the rest of my siblings.)
He came and sat at the table next to us.
Big blue eyes with those long lashes
and those adorable chubby cheeks.
Blond hair and smiling.
I smiled back at him and he looked at back at all of us.
Four kids and two adults,
oh so many people.
We just sat there and smiled at each other for a while,
until my mother asked how old this cutie was.
The proud mom told us about two years old.
We then smiled some more.
His eyes big, staring in amazement.
It was soon time to leave Dairy Queen.
My stomach full,
I felt like an idiot smiling at this little boy,
but I kept grinning.
We stood up to leave and the little boy spoke,
He made my day.
May 21, 2009
In the words of Doug H. being a musician takes three things, hard work, hard work, and more hard work. “Does anyone here love music?” Doug asked. Most of the audience replied yes, then Doug asked again, “Do you really love music? And I mean love. Not just, Oh yeah, I ‘love’ music.”
That glamorous life you have all heard about, it isn’t real. “About one in a million bands get the limousines, concerts, and money,” Doug said. If you truly enjoy making reckless, yet joyful noise on your instrument of choice then go for it. But if you really love it then you won’t just practice oh say, thirty minutes a day. Doug continued, “We’re talkin’ three to five hours a day and you practice that long because you feel like you need to.”
According to Doug H. as a musician you are never simply finished. There is always something to work on, something to improve. There are many reasons why you shouldn’t become a musician. It’s hard to pay rent et cetera. And it is extremely hard to “make it” as a fellow musician. If you are passionate about making and listening to music then all the fame, glory, and money shouldn’t matter. Some people may ask why you would “throw away” so much to be a musician, but it’s what you want and you do it because you love it.
February 16, 2009
I was thinking. If I was offered the opportunity to be a journalist for a music magazine (possibly Alternative Press or Rolling Stone) or to be a guitarist in an amazing band. Which would I choose? I had wanted to play guitar since I was nine years old. Practicing my air guitar in the privacy of my own room, completely spazing. Or pouring my guts out with ink and paper in hopes of becoming an utterly brilliant writer.
Being in a band would be quite interesting. I’d enjoy the fun questionnaires you get in interviews and your “humble” opinion on things. Looking super fierce in when you play live so you can intimidate people. Or to be some coffee drinking freak, blinded from the sun, glued to your computer, writing obsesser. Wearing T-shirts and tight jeans, strutting around like you know what you’re doing. Reader, does that thought ever cross your mind? I wonder where life will take me quite often. Who will I end up being in the next couple of years (I’m hoping I’ll stay true to who I am now.)?
Reader, let’s be honest. Would either of those jobs fully satisfy me? I seem to be quite an undecided person. I purchase an item at a store. “I love it! I’m so happy I bought it!” The next twenty minutes. “What the heck did I just waste my money on?! I could have bought ‘such and such’.” Yep, that is me. Being on the road with a band would be fun for a while. Awake at all hours, doing what you love, traveling, and playing shows. My only problem? I get motion sickness. I’d practically be bulimic. Then the shows would get tiring, performing the same songs until you write a new one. I suppose I shouldn’t think so negatively, maybe I’d be able to make a big impact on a lot of kids. Then there is writing. After a while, what is there to talk about? You are usually seen with a pen in your hand or your eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen for so many hours.
I guess I can be quite the “party pooper”, but that’s just me my friend. You either do or don’t like me, I don’t care too much. Either one I’d love. Writing would be easier to handle, though I’d miss the comfort of my guitar, Bella, too much. The excitement of playing a gig and going crazy on stage sounds and looks intruiging. Who knows where the world might take me….