A man of many talents

The thing about writing a vanity blog for five years is that eventually it begins to seem like Afghanistan: You’re plumb out of reasons to be there, but walking away seems like an admission that being there in the first place was a tragic waste of time.

That’s kind of where I’m at now. Again. Instead of withdrawing, I authorized a surge in January, thinking that if I posted every freaking day for a few months, it might enhance my cleverness the way daily exercise enhances muscle tone. So far it hasn’t. Poor analogy, I guess. Turns out a metaphor is more apt: I appear to have exhausted my shallow well of inspiration. That thing is pumping sand.

So I’ve been spending less time with the computer and more time with the guitar. When my brother and Mom were here last month, she persuaded me to bring out the guitar and fumble through the few songs I know. Those were some rough serenades, and a repertoire so thin it’s almost transparent. But she seemed to enjoy it a great deal. I was touched. I’ve started practicing a lot more so I can do a better job when I visit Montana this summer. The old songs she likes are all pretty easy to chord; it’s just a matter of memorizing the verses and keeping the sung notes within a key or two. My rendition of “Sixteen Tons” won’t make her forget Tennessee Ernie Ford, but it’s a lot of fun to play.

Also, we joined a gym. That takes time I might otherwise spend thinking of something snide to say about “American Idol” or James Patterson. But at least I see some benefit from it. Hey, I wonder if enhancing muscle tone might enhance cleverness? Nah, probably not.