George doesn’t play his guitar much any more. He says he’s too busy. His callouses are gone. He can’t play on an empty stomach or when he’s tired or in January or during a full moon, blah, blah, blah. I don’t bring up the subject very often. The guitar just sits on its stand in plain sight like a faithful but neglected friend. Always available. Never uttering a word of rebuke or blame as he passes through the room day after day.
Today on the way to church we were listening to the “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” soundtrack. “Man of Constant Sorrows” came on, and I said, “Doesn’t that make you want to pick up your guitar?”
He thought for a moment. “Hearing that makes me wonder why I ever thought I could play guitar.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “I can totally hear you playing this song. It sounds like your style.”
“Maybe in your dreams.”
“No . . . . in my memories.”
humility on anti-depressants
Got to tell you, this sounds more like a blue funk than the golly me win an award? George we know. I remember his wistful look at our “goodbye” dinner and the comment he made about missing little feet scampering about. I could always send the boys over to give him a “shot in the arm”. Really, it would be no problem. My pleasure *teehee*
Re: humility on anti-depressants
I’ve gotten used to the whole humility thing. But I’m telling you, it gets on my nerves! You know how he is. When he won teacher of the year (twice!) at ETBU, they were “just being nice.” Both times. Same thing when he won favorite professor. Any compliment of any nature simply cannot be based on any real merit, and therefore, EVERYONE is ALWAYS “just being nice.” I told him when he wins his Nobel Prize, his acceptance speech will be, “Thank you for this award, though I realize you were just being nice.”
If you think a double dose of miniature masculinity will somehow cure a chronic case of entrenched self-deprecation, bring it on. Actually, you can let the boys visit him in the Forestry dept. at SFA. Soils lab. Lots of dirt and worms to get into. In other words, pre-school paradise! Just don’t tell him I sent you. ;o)
I hate to hear he’s not playing, but I can totally understand it with all his school, work, etc. I have to tell our praise band leader three or four times a month that “no, I’m sorry, but I’m still too busy to join the band.” I barely manage to practice an hour a week anymore. (I used to play at least two hours a day!) But I guess the difference is I still want to play, when I have the time. If he doesn’t want to play, I guess there’s not much you can do.
:-*(
Awww… HUG. Sorry. But I must tell you, that NO ONE is more humble than I. Someday great songs and epic poems will be written about my humility. Someday, there will be statues built in honor of my humility. I am the KING of humble!
So there.
😀
Love,
Me
I’m not sure he doesn’t want to play. He has this perfectionistic lining to his cloak of humility. That’s why he quit praise band. He didn’t think he was putting enough preparation into it. If he’s gonna play, he’s gonna practice a lot and play well. He doesn’t have the time for that, so he just lays it aside. The few times he has picked up his guitar lately, he says it hurts his fingers. But I think the day will come when he’ll make it sing again. I hope anyway.
So, you’re the King B!
*smile*
Great songs, epic poems and statues? I don’t doubt it!
♥ EZ
I’m the King B, BAY-BEE!!
You know it! And the inscription on the plaque on the statue’s pedestal will read: “They were only being nice.”
Re: I’m the King B, BAY-BEE!!
LOL! Great inscription!
This makes me so sad for him.
Thanks. You’re sweet. But don’t feel too sad. He has laid his guitar aside before and didn’t touch it for years. Then he picked it up again and played and all the passion came back. He seems to go in cycles or something. Music is in his soul. It won’t stay suppressed forever. One of these days it will bust out.
Thanks for caring.
♥ EZ