Hmm, it's Saturday. It's cold (48 degrees) outside. I have a good stash of cigars. So I will go outside, light one up and study my tax course, which I really need to finish.
There is no breaking news that requires my expert opinions today. However, you may find my discussion with reader Wyandotte interesting, at this article regarding Robert Stacy McCain. I thought we were approaching a healthy meeting of the minds when Wyandotte suddenly went hostile after I asked her if she were associated with the blog Little Green Footballs. I assume that I must have stepped on the truth, otherwise, a simple denial would have been sufficient.
My son Dooj is in the area to attend a funeral of one of his cousins, a wife and mother who died in Indiana last week of the H1N1 virus. Of course, her husband's brutality may have been a contributing factor, as the coroner reported that, besides the flu, the woman had a broken arm, two chipped teeth and multiple bruises throughout her body. She went to sleep on her living room couch and died during the night. Her body was shipped to Gilroy, California so her parents could bury it in her hometown. The funeral is next Tuesday.
I haven't seen my niece by my first marriage in many years so I won't be going to the funeral -- it's complicated, with all of those former in-laws and my ex-wife. However, I have prayed for my niece and will continue to do so.
I am still trying to become the next great jazz bassist. I'd be satisfied with a Blue Brothers style gig playing Rawhide in some dangerous honky-tonk, safe from thrown beer bottles behind a mesh screen.
Maybe I will take a Zen approach: to learn the bass, be the bass. If that doesn't work I may have to resort to actual practice. Just kidding. I have been practicing.
I've had a good week with my upright bass. My playing fingers have grown strong and dexterous and I feel my confidence growing. That big long ebony neck has become a familiar place.
I am learning to read notes with a play-along book. I also challenge my ear by playing along to Diana Krall jazz. I tried it with Norah Jones but after my third suicide attempt in 20 minutes, decided that Jones' music is too damned sad and depressing for me.
Well I have coffee to drink, cigars to smoke and naps to take, and I'm way behind schedule. Have a great Saturday.
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