Friday after work I had my third guitar lesson. I’ve learned a huge amount in three lessons; i.e., been exposed to it, not mastered it. My teacher is pushing me briskly along. I’ve picked out the first song I want to learn to play on the guitar other than the ones my teacher is giving me: the Guided by Voices song “Everywhere With Helicopter.”
Their lyrics are cryptic and wonderful. One of their songs is called “14 Cheerleader Coldfront.” What a perfect way to express something everyone remembers from junior high, whether there were actual cheerleaders or not.
It’s really interesting to listen to music now that I’m taking guitar lessons and notice all the different ways the guitar is played, and how some songs I would have assumed were basic guitar, bass and drums aren’t at all—it’s piano, not guitar, or it’s a string quartet, as in “Eleanor Rigby.” It’s making my ears open further, which I hope doesn’t end up wrecking rock music for me: “A G chord, a G chord, another G chord, yet another G chord—hey, this song sucks!” (I know Todd Rundgren is going to stand up to that test; I’m worried about Silverchair.)
Yesterday, Saturday, was an utterly gorgeous day. I did a whole bunch of little chores in the morning, asking myself, “What do I least want to do?” and doing that next. In the afternoon I went to Rainbow. For some reason, I have been in the habit of eating apples all the time—they keep well, I like them, you don’t need a bag or a container with a lid to bring them home in—or of picking out a dinner vegetable for the week and buying a whole bunch of that, such as broccoli or collard greens or red chard or beets.
I’m making a conscious effort to loosen up lately, in that regard and in general, and have started bringing several empty containers with lids to the store so I can buy whatever catches my eye that needs to be transported that way, like cherries or strawberries. Yesterday I bought one Gala apple, one Fuji, cherries, strawberries, two kinds of nectarines, grapes, and a banana (if I buy even two bananas, there’s an even chance the second will be too ripe to eat, by my standards), plus onions, four kinds of mushrooms, broccoli, carrots, an acorn squash, potatoes and celery.
Every now and then I like do to a Tour de Produce and just walk through Rainbow’s large produce section consciously looking at items one at a time, in order to expand my repertoire. While I was on such a tour yesterday, I passed a young girl standing in front of the lettuces with her arms thrown up exultantly.
Everything I bought was either produce, or a bulk item I put in a container I brought from home, except for Ham’s cans of cat food, six eggs in a cardboard container I can put in the recycling, and one maitake that came in a plastic bag. If my eye hadn’t fallen on that mushroom, I would not have bought one single thing that would end up in the trash, other than the stickers on the two apples. It’s probably the closest I’ve come in my whole life.
When I got home, I cooked brown rice—I didn’t end up eating any of the buckwheat with millet I made last week, it looked so unappetizing—and made a pot of pea soup from a Laurel’s Kitchen recipe while I finished the last of the dal with chopped tomatoes and had another bowlful of strawberries and a cup of black tea.
I practiced the guitar when I was done, and in the evening I watched The Shooter—I couldn’t understand half the dialogue, but I like to watch Mark Walhberg do his thing—and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which was very beautiful, though I hate looking at close-ups of eyeballs or anything to do with medical procedures.
Today it is overcast and I am delighted, because there are many thrilling and interesting things I want to do today inside, such as this, and practicing the guitar and stretching, which has become hard to fit in since the guitar came to town, not to mention reading for pleasure.
Hammett was making a big show of looking nervously at the guitar and running off, but a couple of days ago I saw him stretched out next to it with a proprietary air.
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