A friend came over Saturday morning and we comenced work on a project of mine that was started about 15 years ago best I can remember. The downstairs bathroom has had a toilet and sink for some time now but not a shower, ceiling, or the most necessary item of all, an exhaust fan. As my friend's more informed eye surveyed the situation things began looking a little more doable to me. Our main accomplishments for the day resided in two dissimilar categories. Under the strategic heading, I now have a plan of attack to win the bathroom war. Under the more practical heading we resolved a major problem with the mis-alignment of the shower base drain and the location of the drain pipe in the basement floor. As good fortune would have it the resolution of said problem was to rent a jack hammer and share some good solid manly bonding time together. So solid was the manly bonding that I was virtually left handed all day today. Not sure what my precise injury is but does not appear to be a broken bone. Maybe a bad bruise or some kind of ligament damage or something. Anyway, following my daughter's advice has seen a measured improvement in my condition. Oops, I forgot that I had told my son I would start incorporating a literary device called a paragraph every now and then. It seems like a lot of my stories just ramble and so a paragraph would be somewhat mis-leading as far as indicating how the story unfolds in my head. However, I'm sure with a little effort I can figure out appropriate places for paragraphical insertions. There, That wasn't so hard. If you were at the Lowe's in Derby Friday evening you might have caught some of the Tim and Bert show. I asked my son to accompany me on my mission as I knew I would need his muscle to get the materials we were to buy into "his" car. So off we went. It's always fun to wander about aimlessly at a lumber yard but the wandering was somewhat subdued because of the big cart we were leading around with us. Nevertheless an enjoyable father son excursion right up to the point where I reached in my pocket for my bill fold. "Gosh, I guess I left it at home". Tim eventually produced his debit card to save us from any further embarrassment, or so we thought. I had smartly measured the opening in the back of his Subaru Forrester to verify we could fit two 4 x 8 slices of sheet-rock in it. Well, while they did indeed fit in the very back, where I had measured, they did not want to go on up into the vehicle past the protrusions that housed the seat belt assemblies. The argument lasted several minutes and the shedding of some gypsum was unavoidable. However, in the end, we were victorious and we proceeded home on this cold night with the back of the Forrester open as well as my window. I needed to provide some positive air flow to avoid sucking all the exhaust into the car. Wow, what a great time we had and as is not always the case, there was someone there to share the time with. I can only imagine God was chuckling just a bit as we drove our cold selves home on this eventful eve.
It's all just a blur now. Two loud, boisterous, very full, days of music interrupted only occasionally by a hamburger or a hot dog. It's interesting how I find some bitter-sweetness in experiencing the "morning after". Same is true after the festival in Winfield. There's something attractive about the contrast from one day to the next. The lobby of the hotel was brimming with life and music for hours on end for 2 days straight. Then Sunday morning comes with the quiet lobby echoing only the faint hushed tones of a few people moving their baggage and instruments to their cars. A single conversation is heard, though not distinctly, from across the lobby whereas the day before you could scarcely hear the jam that was happening just a couple of feet away. Like a hundred yard dash. No pacing, just pushing yourself as hard as you can for those few seconds then coming to a stop just a few feet past the finish line. I dared to don my 12 string on this morning. It seemed to be the most appropriate instrument for the occasion. I sat in a corner of the lobby for the first few songs. Finger picking and singing softly through Boy From The Country, How Great Is Our God, and a couple of other songs. Then a group of folks gathered in my vicinity, though not to listen, but rather to talk of their time there. I quietly exited to a vacant hallway where I could resume my tired, melancholy music. After some time there with just a person or two moving down the hallway a young man and woman emerged from around the corner. The lady pulled a chair over near mine and helped the young blind man sit down in it. She said she would be right back and disappeared around the same corner from which they had come. Tyler was this kid's name, and we visited a bit before I began playing some more music. Eventually, I helped them get out to the front of the hotel so a friend could pick up Tyler and take him where he needed to go. I remembered Tyler from the night before. He was jamming with some folks by the pillar just ahead of the confluence of one of the several hallways and the lobby. He was playing his guitar and singing with great enthusiasm. He is in a band back in Johnson City, TN and the young lady performs with him as well. As we sat in the hall we talked about music and bands etc. He commented on how he really has trouble warming up to a singer who is not engaged in the lyrics of the song. He said it was important to feel like you have something to say. I mentioned how hard it is to make a living at music and he agreed. However, he said that if you are doing something you enjoy then the money isn't that important. I mentioned what a friend had told me once about our hopes as relating to our children. We tend to want them to be "successful" without really examining what that means. We tend to default to our cultural definition of success requiring a substantial salary etc. When what we should hope for our children is that they are happy. You have to pay some bills but beyond that if you're happy at what you spend your life doing then that seems to be the important thing. I bid Tyler goodbye and encouraged him to keep playing and singing. This day was turning into an enjoyable event although it started out a little iffy. My head was pounding all morning. Ibuprofen didn't help and I was looking at the prospect of becoming sick to my stomach if things went as they often do with these headaches. I suspect the long drive and two long, though enjoyable days, were catching up with my old and aging body. I laid down across the chairs at the back of the room while the Gospel groups were performing. This did not help either. I decided to head for Kansas so around noon I took off and bid Nashville adieu. When I was well on my way up I-24 heading toward St. Louis I stopped at a convenience store. Parked around to the side of the store I set my seat back and took a nap. A long nap. It was at least an hour though I didn't note the time when I started. When I awoke I felt measurably better and my headache was all but vanquished. My new-found strength eventually took me all the way home through some rain and snow both. I was amazed at how well I felt on the trip after having such a sickly start to the day. Some light snow met me just west of Columbia, MO and accompanied me the rest of the way home. The snow's intensity increased as I approached Emporia where I would enter the Kansas Turnpike for the final leg of my journey. By the time I hit Cassoday, about 30 miles So. of Emporia and 50 from Wichita, the snow was collecting on the roadway. About 20 miles later I was moving around 40 mph and that would be the speed that would take me on into Wichita. Boy was I glad to be home. Two quick trips from the car to the house to deposit my gym bag and instruments on the couch and I was headed to bed. The heater probably ran 11 or 12 minutes out of the 14 hour trip so a warm bed was just what the doctor ordered.Home sweet home!
It's me, Bert, here in Nashville posing as a bluegrass musician to gain access to some great music. So far so good. Several hours of jamming yesterday and the prospect of more today. Yesterday I couldn't help myself and I presented a total stranger with what I thought would be a humorous addition to his day. He was walking briskly to the front of the hotel with 2 banjos, then pausing he handed one of them off to a friend just behind him. I said, "you don't want to be caught with two of those things do ya?". Without boring you with my interpretation of his look, (that's all I had to go on since he didn't offer any verbal response), suffice it to say humour was not what he found in my comment. Oh well. I try not to say too much unless spoken to. Guess I'll try to practice that bit of discipline again today. Hope it works out better than it did yesterday. I met a group of folks singing here in the lobby yesterday. Imagine that. Anyway, their harmonies were quite nice so I stopped by for a listen. We eventually introduced ourselves and I made them sing a couple more songs for me. Turns out it was a father, son and daughter who were picking up where they left off from times past when they would sing in the living room of their home. They were from Cincinnati, OH so I asked them if they knew Eric. Nope, they didn't. But it was worth a shot. Guess I'll head out for now. For those who have been praying for my friend Norm he was able to hold a guitar a couple of days ago and form a couple of chords. His singing was more like whispers, I suspect a little like my grandma's voice when she was singing me to sleep. Please keep him in your prayers. He has come to mind often here in Nashville with all this music around.Later, Bert
Yippiieeeeee. Here I am at the Sheraton Music City on this lovely Friday morning. I will have many mistakes in this post as I am in a bit of a hurry here; will explain later. Last night at the Motel 6 Music City I had a wonderful time. Ran across the street to a Jack in the Box for dinner. Took it back to the room and after a quick inhale of food and a shower I was ready for bed. It is a long drive from Wichita, Ks to Nashville, Tn, but it went well. Started out about 4 am and finally got to the motel about 7 pm. The last hour an a half was spent in the Nashville area dealing with stop and go traffic. Stop is self explanatory but the going was so slow the speedometer never moved off the peg. The helpful signs tell you to tune your AM radio to 1680, if the yellow lights are flashing, so you can get an update on traffic conditions. Unfortunately, my radio doesn't go that high. What's up with that? My highest frequency is 1610. Oh well, I made it ok. Started out with some light snow from Wichita to Kansas City, then hit some light rain coming into Nashville, but other than that the only weather related problems had to do with the fact that the heater in my car works about 5% of the time. Sometimes it would start working when I introduce a significant amount of trauma to the dashboard. After injuring my hand I fetched a boot out of the trunk to provide the moving force as it were. With so little payoff, (it only seemed to help every once in a while), I finally stopped the practice. As daylight came I saw what a bad idea that really was as there were several new cracks in the dashboard. Geepers Wally. So the motel has all these "green" ideas implemented. If the water is turned up all the way in the sink I estimate it would take 34 minutes to fill the sink up. Between the shower and the hand washing, teeth brushing, etc. I figure I have used 1.2 liters of water. Well, some music has carelessly broke out in my vicinity so I best be going. Please pray for my wife as there is something going on with her liver that has yet to be fully understood. Her liver is functioning at this time but has obviously been damaged some how. Thanks, and as time and opportunity present themselves I will try to check in again while here in Nashville. God Bless every last one of the 3 of you.
OK, so I'm a little excited about my trip tomorrow. I enjoy road trips and will enjoy the travel time with out the usual distractions, I mean, responsibilities, of my job. Life so often gets in the way of my musical endeavours, but for the next couple of days, music is king. Not sure what will occupy my time while on the road yet. Certainly some time for listening to music will be one item on the list. It would be nice to freshen up some of the fading scriptures I have memorized over the years. Seems like I've done precious little with that precious lot lately. If I set my mind to it I could return with another song written. I have a book with several ideas that need finishing or I could write a song about the experience itself. Two years ago when I went I ended up sleeping in the car the first night. Didn't want to spring for a motel room and I was tired after a long drive followed by sitting through a performance of several gospel groups on that first night of the convention. They wouldn't let you park in the hotel parking lot unless you had a room there or a special parking pass so I ventured around the corner to an office building. Their parking lot was well lit and it was just a stones throw from the Sheraton Music City where the party was. It was pretty chilly so I pulled my coat over me like a blanket, laid the seat back and headed off to lala land. I woke up occasionally but all in all was sleeping pretty well. Then around 4 am I was awaken from a sound sleep by a simultaneous occurrence of noise, vibration, and bright lights. I was pretty sure I was being abducted by aliens. By the time my wits finally caught up to me a full third of my life had flashed before me. As my ability to reason returned I realized they were servicing the dumpster which I had strategically parked beside. As one might guess, strategy is not my strong suit. In fact, my strong suit is yet to be identified, though I feel like I'm getting closer all the time. The process of elimination has helped me narrow the field to a few attributes I have yet to acquire. Anyways, the next night I sprung for a motel 6 and only used the office parking lot to avoid paying the parking fees at the Sheraton. This years unknown will lie in the car and the weather, both of which are looking a bit unpredictable. One prediction I have a great bit of confidence in, however, is if I make it there, I will have a great time. You can take that to the bank. Unfortunately, they won't give you anything for it, but still, I'm just sayin'.
Windy and cold it was as my wife and I approached the old Kansas Coliseum. Though not a long walk from the parking area, it was sufficiently long to make us both wish it was shorter. Can't tell you how many fun nights I've spent in that old building watching the Wichita Wings go so efficiently about the enterprise of indoor soccer. We watched the likes of Preki, Chico Borja, and Eric Rasmussen exhibit their more than mediocre talents on the pitch on many a cold winter night with the house full of rowdy soccer fans. Good times indeed. Soccer eventually became my favourite sport, though I now prefer the outdoor game. Preki played for the San Diego Soccers and every time he had the ball at his feet I remember thinking, "gosh, I wish he didn't have the ball at his feet". Of course he had a tremendous career with the Kansas City Wizards in the outdoor game and has now proven to be a formidable tactician as coach of the Chivas USA team of the MLS. Anyway, back to the main story here. So we found our way inside the coliseum where the temperature was eerily similar to what it was outside. The wind was noticeably weaker however and we waited there for our friends to appear. After the time had passed when we expected they would be there we ventured on down the long, wide, concrete hallway to the point where it opened up into the main floor of the building. It looked quite different now then the last time I had seen it. There were no real indications that so many activities had taken place there. Soccer, hockey, concerts, basketball, etc, etc. After visiting with a nice lady we decided to go ahead and register our presence so as to have one less thing to do when our friends arrived. This took little time and we were back at the cold, less windy waiting area in no time. Once our friends arrived and we were all registered we were given our plastic aprons and hair nets and asked to stand in a line. Shortly we were joined by others who were likewise outfitted. What I observed there was a very encouraging sight. One that warmed my heart immensely. We were a small part of an effort to package a million meals to be sent to Haiti. 150 folding tables formed 50 work stations with 8 or 10 people at each station. The effort was drawing to a close on this Sunday evening but the room was still filled with people, and music that seemed to me to have a Reggae sort of sound to it. Surely this is something truly American that we can take pride in. Surely a room full of people, who could have chosen so many different destinations on this night, coming here to try to help a needy people so very far away is a notable thing. At a time when money is a bit tight by our standards, jobs are harder to find and many are struggling financially, we still have our time to give. And give we do. The really remarkable thing about this party is that it is not some kind of odd occurrence. As a people, we have always been generous when tragedy strikes, whether here, or abroad. They had hit their goal of 1,000,000 meals at around 4:30 and when we left they were well over 1,171,000. When I hear how many Americans were there in Haiti when the earthquake hit, and I see how we are responding to try and help, I have trouble believing we are hated by the world. There are likely those who are jealous of our prosperity, and there are those who focus on and amplify our faults, but they, by and large, are not in position to help as extensively as we can because many of them are not a free people. Or their freedom is throttled and manipulated by a top heavy, if not corrupt, government bureaucracy. I hope we always choose to use our freedom as a tool to help others. And I hope our politicians realize that tool is so much more effective in the hands of the citizenry than in the hands of a government.
Some people save up their vacation time and end up having to use some at the end of the year so they won't loose it. That is one problem that I have never encountered in my relatively short life. When I see those poor devils rushing around at the end of the year, worried they might loose some vacation, I think, "there, but for the grace of God, go I". I'm not sure how to explain my talent. That is to say, I don't remember anyone "teaching" me how to use vacation time. It would seem it was one of those God given gifts that is just part of my personality. Please don't think that I am boasting. I understand that I could have easily been one of those other people who just can't think of a good reason to take off work. For me the reasons just seem to flow like a broken water main. I can't hardly think of a reason to not take a vacation day. Weird, huh? Another amazing part of this whole thing is the fact that my cow-orkers seem to enjoy seeing me take days off too. Talk about a win - win. Kind of like a vacation for them and me too. I don't know, it's just rather amazing sometimes when I step back and see all the wonderful ways God has blessed me. Maybe I'll take off tomorrow and contemplate all that I have been given. I'll be right back, gotta take a quick look at my last check stub.
