All I Could Do Was Dust

Author: siggy

All I could do was dust.  And listen to some music to counter my dark mood (the latest “Sugarland” CD).  Dusting is a mindless task.  In this house there is no lack of dust:  we have four dogs and seven cats.  Dusting is an unending job in this house.  In the process I changed a light bulb.  At least, I kept moving.  That is a good thing.  When I am depressed I don’t feel like doing that.  It can’t hurt.  And I may go on to something else after dusting.  Let us see what is going to happen next.

There is a point your musical collection becomes unwieldy.  There is so much music one can listen to.  One thing that has not changed is the power of one.  That is all you can listen to at one time.  One CD.  One album.

And the more unlistened albums you have the harder it is to listen to new pieces of music.  If it doe not get your attention right away, it vanishes in your collection.  Not every album captures your attention right away.  Many don’t.

There is too much music I am not familiar with.  My wife discovered E Bay and went a little crazy with purchases of music.  And got music I never would have advised her to buy had she run it by me.

I have several hundred CDs, maybe two thousand LPs and hundreds of cassettes.  I have trouble enough storing them much less playing them.  My musical collection has become unwieldy.

The beauty of a superb piece of writing (as a gorgeous musical composition) is what is left out–the empty spaces.  A writer does not want to confuse the writer (???) with clutter.  Every thing that is not necessary has been taken out.

You want every word, every phrase, every sentence and paragraph to matter.  I always said that an excellent editor is worth their weight in gold.  It is very difficult for the writer to see their piece objectively.

You always need someone from the outside who you trust for their advice on your written piece.  Sure you need to do everything you can before you submit your piece to someone else.

Nevertheless, at some point you need to present your piece to someone else for their opinion.  You have to be very careful who you choose and when to do this.  You have given your piece your all.

Now it is time to let someone else read it.  Everything that gets in the way has to be taken out or changed.  You want every word to count.  You can not do this by yourself.

I don’t know how to extricate myself from my things.  I feel trapped by them.  I have too many LPs, books in particular.  That is only a short list.

Being married makes it a little harder.  Some of the things are hers or ours.  There are still many books and cassettes in boxes as well.  I just want order and don’t know how to get there.

My house is budging (??bulging??) at its seams.  I tell my wife someone is going to have the mammoth job of going through our stuff when we are gone but that does not make any difference to her.

We had made three trips to Austin to finish the job of going through her Mom’s stuff.  Too much of it is still in boxes in the basement.  It costs us a small fortune to ship that stuff.

I just don’t know how to downsize.  We have a junk room upstairs.  It could be a guest room if it was ever cleared.  All this is driving me crazy.

I just want to throw away, give away stuff.  I want more order in this house.  Pray for me.  I don’t know what else to do.

The Fights Couples Have

Author: siggy

The fights couples have amaze me.  We had a fight because I discovered my second car’s battery was dead again.  Yesterday, I idled it at least fifteen minutes and then drove 16 miles away never turning the motor off.  And it was “dead” the next morning.

I really could not believe it.  I was sure it would turn over immediately.  It just so happens that we needed two cars today.  My wife and I had a heated discussion about it.  And I was told I needed to drive it alot more.

We bought a 2006 Honda SUV two Julys ago.  I knew back then I would not be inclined to drive our 1993 Honda Accord too often unless we fixed the sound system.  All the speakers are blown and the stereo/cassette does not sound good.

I told my wife fix the sound system and I will drive the old Honda more frequently.  She reacted derisively to that comment.  I also asked her since when does the new car belong to you.

In a year and a half she has driven the Honda Accord, maybe twice.  I really would not care that much if the old car had a decent sound system in it.  At the moment she is giving me the silent treatment.  Oh, well?!

It is so easy to take your mate for granted.  I was “straightening” a small pocket of disorder and came across my MP3 player.  She literally spent hours downloading music on it for me for a birthday present.

I have not used it much but I needed to thank her again for it.  I was not too comfortable with the technology but maybe I will start to rediscover what she put on it.

I have to give her a big hug out of principle.  I have been recovering from surgery and she has been terrific in taking care of me.  Don’t ever take your mate for granted.

No one has to do anything for anybody.  Every relationship is by grace.  When I am finished writing this blog, I will go to my wife and give her a big hug just for being there.

Our perennial fight about stuff.  In the garage is a Hammond organ.  It is there because I did not want it in the living room.  It does not work.  I doubt anyone wants it.  My wife thinks it is worth something.  I just want to trash it.

That is the fight my wife and I have over and over–about stuff.  It is hard to get rid of any books.  Unfortunately when you have too many books the really good ones get buried.

That does not make any difference.  She insists on keeping them.  So our book shelves are bulging.

I collect music.  My wife at some point discovered E Bay and bought lots of used LPs and CDs and now my music collection is out of control.

We have fight after fight about things–too many things in our house–a lot of things that are not being used.

Is that what all couples have–issues that will not go away and can’t be resolved no matter what?

The highlight of my day is ten o’clock in the morning when the mail gets here.  Of course, Sunday there is no delivery.  Sometimes (and often) it is just a bill or junk mail but once in a while I get something more personal like a letter from a friend.  Some junk mail is more interesting than others.  Some is simply someone who wants a contribution.  Sometimes I may get an CD I have ordered or better yet a book.  After the mail gets here it is all downhill.  The mail is always the highpoint of my day.

I absolutely loved Peter, Paul & Mary. I use the past tense only because Mary Travers died last year not because I still don’t love hearing them: I do.

They had a rare blend of voices and had impeccable taste as far as the material they chose to record. Usually they recorded other people’s material but they always made the material their own.

They were all excellent songwriters, too. My first concert was Peter, Paul & Mary at Carnegie Hall in 1965. It was magical, they were great!  It was the first concert I ever went to:  I was a sophomore in high school.

Their first album “Peter, Paul & Mary” (1962) is still very high on my all time list of records to play.

They sang with passion and worked at it. Their singing very seldom was mannered. They left behind many memorable albums and most of them are still in print. I never get tired of hearing them.

And if you have not discovered them it is still not too late to explore their discography. You will be in for a treat.

To me the music is always about feeling.  Yes, I want the lyrics if there is any to make sense and be well integrated with the music.  The music is always about feelings.  Sure, I want the musicians to be competent on their instruments.  Yet it has to be more than that.  Each musician needs to care about their song, the notes they are playing.  The audience always knows whether they care or not.  And that is the first thing I listen is the feel of the song.  It is either there or it is not.  The music is always about the feelings of the musicians and how well they express them in their music.  The best music expresses the inexpressible and you walk away enriched.  It is always about the feeling the music engenders.

If you want to upset me confront me unnecessarily and put me in an untenable position.  And do it over minor stuff.  Always give me a way out.  Very, very seldom is it necessary to do that.  Almost never in fact.

If you listen to diplomats, usually every effort is made to reach a compromise pleasing to both.

If you want me to yell and raise my voice continue to do that.  You have a choice in the matter.  Meet me half way.  Do not make it your will against mine.  Do not insist on something being done a certain way.

If the truth be known, there are usually several different ways to accomplish the same purpose but if you insist I do something and you have backed me against the wall and I really can’t do it or think I can’t, I will only get upset.

And it is so unnecessary.  If you are willing to bend, most things can be done peacefully.  And without strife.  ‘Your mother’s ghost hangs over your shoulder’–a line from the song “Triad” written by David Crosby and performed by Jefferson Airplane.

Sometimes you have to realize stances you maintain are really shadows of lessons you learned in your childhood and repeated lessons your parents imparted.  It is not necessary to hang on to them.  They only get you in trouble as you found out.

This latest squabble we had was when I asked you to check a dog’s collar.  All you had to do was say, “Yes, I will.”  I was not sure of how tight or loose it was before.  You insisted I figure it out.  You did not have to back me in a corner.

I do not exist in a vacuum.  If you don’t want me to raise my voice, stop putting we (???) in untenable positions.  And give me ways out.  I guarantee I will get upset less and will raise my voice less.  You do exert some control over me.  Just use it.

All I wanted to do was watch the birds and listen to music with the volume pumped up but not unbearably so.  My wife would be gone several hours.  I had just come back from shopping.

I had a dinner planned–a new recipe-macaroni and broccoli but I would not have to start it for several hours.  I was tickled pink to see a house sparrow briefly.  I had not seen one in awhile.

The snow birds (slate-covered juncos) were feeding on the ground around our large white pine tree in flocks.  I glanced out the back window:  the bare patches were getting bigger.  It was in the forties.

It felt great to be alive.  I just wanted to be, sit back, stand it does not matter.  It was my time.  I was listening to a fine anthology I put together by the Hollies.  It was much played over the years which is a good sign I did my job of mixing the tunes well.

Another anthology by Steeleye Span (an old British folk-rock band) was next.  I do not play that tape too often but I still like it.  And an old (all my music is old) Thin Lizzy album “Jailbreak” was next.

I had no concerns and will rest a little better when my wife get back from her appointments.  Meanwhile I will occasionally glance out my large living room window and see what birds come along.  Maybe even smoke a stogy while life passes me by.