Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Butt Hurt

        It seems I'm surrounded by people who are very sensitive. I'm sensitive too. If someone says something that I don't like I get butt hurt. But that rarely happens to me. Usually, I'm the guy that says something insensitive. I don't mean to hurt people. It just comes naturally. I try not to be offensive. Sometimes I even think about what I'm going to say before I say it. It doesn't help. People are sensitive. It's getting to the point where I want to run what I'm going to say by the person before I say it.  
       
        "So hey man, I wanted to say something, but I kind of wanted to run it by you first."
        "What do you mean, run it by me?"
        "Well, you know, just to make sure it's okay."
        "What do you mean, "okay"?
        "Well, you know, sometimes, I say stuff, and like, maybe, it rubs you wrong."
        "What are you talking about?"
        "Well, like when you didn't talk to me for a couple weeks, you know, a couple months ago? I still don't know exactly what I said, but you got kind of upset."
        "You don't know what you said? Don't gimme that, you know what you said. I had every right to be pissed."
        "What did I say? I mean, see, this is what I mean. This is why I wanna run stuff by you first."
        "Why? Because you think I'm difficult? Like a delicate flower, you can't just say things to me?"
        "Hey, hey, I'm not trying to start anything!"
        "No, really, what do you mean by this anyway? You know, you're always pulling stuff like this!"
        "Hey man, just trying to be, you know, considerate...
        "I don't need your consideration! Treating me like I'm a kid, like I need to be "handled." You know, maybe you and I shouldn't hang out for a while. I mean, if I'm so sensitive, and all.
         "Never mind, Okay, just forget it.
         "Forget it? No, what did you want to say? I can handle it. C'mon, tell me. What is it?

Sunday, April 27, 2014

The Luthier

            I took my acoustic electric guitar to a luthier. It needed to be re-wired. The guitar was broken, no good, useless as far as being able to use it with an amp. I had to use a microphone when I performed and stand in a fixed position to be heard. I'm not very good at standing in a fixed position. I get a little antsy. I felt like a robot when I played.
            Sometimes I'd lose track of where the microphone was and bang my guitar into it mid-song, or pull away from the mic and have the sound of the guitar disappear. I'm glad the guitar's finally fixed. Now, if I want to break into a flat foot in between verses I can. 
            The luthier has his own line of guitars called Marble Head Guitars. When I communicate with him via email I use the heading "Dear Marble Head." It cracks me up every time. I'm not sure why, it just does. The luthier does have a round head. Wolf pup.