Hallelujah

            
            I once sat down to play an acoustic guitar at a music store. There was a sign posted: please don't play Hallelujah. I laughed. I like the song myself, and frankly, I think it's cool that people know of Leonard Cohen because of it. That is if they don't think Jeff Buckley wrote it.
            The other night while at my once a week gig, a man came up to me and said he wanted to hear some Motown. He put a bill down on the pool table as a tip. I forgot about the man, but on the way to the bathroom I heard him say "hey, what happened to the Motown?" Oh yeah, next song I told him. 
            When I came out of the bathroom I heard him complaining to the bartender about the music. My friend was playing Hallelujah at the time. He was doing a great job of it as far as I was concerned. It wasn't a sappy version like some others. My friend has a deep voice, and it sounded good. But the man, maybe he had too much to drink or something, he just couldn't take it anymore and exploded in his seat. He was yelling at the top of his lungs. I'm not sure what he was saying. The bartender had to ask him to leave. Some people just can't stand that song. It turns them into salami heads.
             I picked up the tip the man had left. It was a buck. All that for a buck. I tried giving it to the bartender, but she didn't want it. She tried giving back to me, but I didn't want it. She put it into my musician friend's pocket. A smile came to his face. "I didn't even have to dance for it!"

Yellow Jacket

         
           I stepped on a yellow jacket in my bare feet. I felt a zing shoot through my foot and when I looked down I saw the little guy struggling for life. I disembowled him. I had to pull his stinger from my foot. They pack a punch for their size. It's amazing when you think about it. The amount of energy they have stored up in them. 
            Four or five of his yellow jacket buddies were circling around him as he died. It was almost as if they were checking to see if he was alright, or if they could help in anyway. They were still circling when he finally died. It was a funeral of sorts for making the ultimate sacrifice. I left them alone just in case they had intentions of revenge. 
            My foot still hurts, but thankfully I didn't swell up and break into hives. The sting is interesting to me. The immediacy of the pain. My reaction to it. I poured rice vinegar on it. I figured that it would keep it clean, but I was hoping it would take the pain away. I was in a bit of a panic and grabbed the first thing that came to mind as a remedy. It didn't take the pain away. I guess the only remedy for a sting is time. Time heals all stings, personal, or otherwise.