All of a sudden I felt old.  I was at an open mike of a coffeehouse.  A performer did a song of Bob Dylan’s.  I no longer remember the title but someone went up to the performer and told him it was great you were doing Dylan’s material and his material was not forgotten.  Suddenly I realized the song he did was fifty years old.  Dylan wrote one great song after another during that period.  The songs were a rallying point for the sixties civil (???) movement.  Maybe they will be discovered anew if the climate of our nation changes.  Those sixties songs captured a generation. And are there for subsequent generations to discover.

It is always about the music.  Whenever I loved a group I went deep in their albums.  I never collected just to collect.  Although sometimes the first album of a group or artist I bought was excellent and subsequent albums never matched up.  I do read music reviews.  My collection is out of control since I married my second wife.  She “discovered” E Bay and went a little crazy for awhile.  Now there is music in my house I am not familiar with or have no interest in.  Like when she bought the complete set of Emerson, Lake and Palmer.  I had stopped listening to them after their second album.  I am glad she is no longer doing that. I now do have some music I never thought I would ever see again.  In my first marriage I had to make room to include some music which meant I had to get rid of some of the “deadwood” in my collection.  In my new house I have more room so I can collect more music.  There is always an interesting piece of music I have not heard before.

Today I am having an afternoon tribute to Jefferson Airplane. They continue to excite me.  They were erudite.  Their harmonies, vocals and instrumentation were powerful.  They wrote great songs.  I had the privilege of seeing them in 1970.  I went down to the Shore to see them.  I knew I would be stranded overnight but I did not care.  I never forgot moving into the aisle when they played “Crown of Creation” and all I could do was sit there mouth open awed.  It is my favorite song of theirs.  It still speaks to me.  The song is timeless and is about your struggle to grow and love those around you.  Thank you, Paul Kantner.  I will continue to listen to this box set I have of them today.  My wife is not home so I can pump up the volume.  I never tire of them.  Their songs were about love, anger and the fight to remain true to yourself despite the forces which tear us apart.  I still identify with those struggles they portrayed so powerfully in music and song.

It is a gift my wife does not mind the music I play on the stereo most of the time.  Both of our taste in music is eclectic.  My first wife had to be out of the house for me to freely play the stereo.  So it is only by grace I can do that.  She does, though, sometimes ask me to lower the volume.

I Am Not My Diagnosis

Author: siggy

I am not my diagnosis.  I could state it but it does not matter.  I am a man who loves all kinds of music, writes poetry, letters and other things.  I love nature particularly the birds I attract with all my feeders.  I am married to a woman I love who is not quite the same but loves a lot of the same things particularly music from the same era.  She is not perfect but close.  We both love to read and I have more books in my house that I ever had before.  She loves mysteries.  I don’t.  But our tastes in books and music is very eclectic.  Music and books are all over the house.  She usually lets me be.  I am not as good as her in that regard and sometimes have to learn to be quiet.  We have our own space in our house.  I love the mountains, the lakes and ocean.  So does she.  We live on the edge of country.  I am all these things and more.  I am not my diagnosis I have to state again.  That is just an artificial artifact.  The doctors need that and my insurance.  That is the only purpose of my diagnosis.  It is not me.

I was depressed about the clutter in this house.  There were too many books, VCRs and LPs and I did not know where to start.  I know we have made some headway but not enough.  I can’t just get rid of stuff:  I have to run it by my “other”.  I really do not know where to start.  I was down to begin with and when I look around at the clutter I just got more depressed.  The house is out of control.  I don’t know where to start or do this mutually.  I need someone to come in and aid us in this process.  We have had one room we call a junk room.  We want it to be a guest room but it feels like it will never be cleared.  I step in it and I just shake my head.  I just don’t know what to do any longer.

I was appreciating my MP3 player just now.  Two birthdays ago it was a present.  She literally spent hours downloading several hundred songs on it.  She thought I might use it for the cross country train ride we took then.  I really did not appreciate what she did.  Until now.  The fact is I don’t like listening to my MP3 player through my head phones.  Recently we bought a new car that has an auxiliary to the stereo.  Now I can enjoy the music she downloaded almost two years ago through the car stereo.  She knows my musical tastes and she also has her own preferences.  I usually play “DJ” in the house.  Now it is her turn.

I used to be addicted to playing pinball machines.  I would be coming home from collecting money from my paper route customers.  It was 42 cents for a week of newspaper delivery and many of my customers would give me two quarters and tell me to keep the change so I often would have a pocket full of change, particularly quarters.  Before I went home, I would often play pinball at the local candy store.  That is what you called them back in those days.  You know it was a long time ago.  Playing a game of pinball only cost a quarter.  And not only that you got five balls per game.  Today one game costs 50 cents and you only get three balls.  Inflation, indeed!  Of course the days of five balls per game and a quarter each game go back almost fifty years.  I am dating myself.  I, also, remember when gasoline was 33 cents a gallon.  All those days are long gone.  Of course, those days you made a whole lot less a week.  In 1970, I made an $100 a week and thought that was a lot.  Then tickets to the Fillmore East were $3.50, $4.50 and $5.50.  Those were the days.

It is always about the music.  I could never understand music collectors who have thousands and thousands of pieces of music (LP’s, cassettes , CD’s, etc).  How you store the music in an accessible fashion is another question.  There is a point your collection becomes unwieldy.  I never collected for the sake of collecting.  It was always about the music.  Each person has the same limitations:  you can only play one piece of music at one time.  Besides when you have too much music too much becomes undiscovered or underplayed.  The best music gets played over and over.  My collection is always about the music.

I have thousands of LP’s, CD’s and cassettes but always return to this one.  My nerves are ragged and when this happens I “pull out” this 60’s album “Clouds” by Joni Mitchell.  I did put it on cassette years ago.

The music is soothing and I will play it over and over and also search for other quiet music until this phase of mine passes.  I can’t listen to uptempo music right now.  I don’t think my episode will last too long.  I am still sleeping whole nights so I am not overly concerned.  I will play it by ear.  The more I can soothe my nerves the quicker I will return to normal.

I want to count my blessings.  It is so easy to center on what I call my “lack”.  I am so blessed–materially and all kinds of ways that have nothing to do with things.  I have a wife who loves me.  And all kinds of other people who are glad to see me.  And I have a history with them.  My four dogs and even my cats who really do not pay much attention to me but I appreciate them nevertheless.  My life is not perfect but then, again, whose is?  Of course, this is a short and incomplete list.  I can go on and on but I won’t.  I am just glad to be home.

The Carolina wren hopped on the fence and sang so sweetly.  This was unusual behavior by this bird but there was a nest they planted ten feet away in a wandering Jew plant hanging from the middle of the garage.  Now I knew what they sounded like.  More than once we saw the birds fly from the nest.  Several times we saw one with a worm in his/her mouth.  I could not hear any babies.  It appeared as two birds were flying back and forth from the nest.  The nest was facing the door and my wife was careful not to disturb the birds when she watered the plant.  Now I know what they sound like.  It seems as if every year some bird nests nearby our front door.