There are too many remotes in this house. Last night’s show undid all of my shoulder healing, I fear, and all I want to do is lie on the couch with my laptop and see what’s on the Scifi channel… but I’ve found five remotes so far, and none of them will turn the television on.
Oh my God. This is excruciating. Why can’t I have rockstar problems? You know – a lot of women trying to follow me home, too much fanmail to read, the roadies got the wrong colour of M&Ms into the dressing rooms… instead, my shoulder hurts too much to move, and my dandruff is kicking up.
Death.
And I have the hiccups. Nothing hurts more than hiccups. Unless I sneeze. I’m sure I have a razor blade around here somewhere… just in case I feel like I’m going to sneeze.
Razor blade… but no damn remote.
Ok, now, lest thee pass judgement on my choices – I want to make it clear, that from 10-4 on most weekdays, the Scifi channel frequently has some sort of marathon on. On good days it’s classic Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica is a particular favourite, and what I’m hoping for – what I’ve had a craving for – is Buck Rogers.
However, on bad days it’s Crossing Over, the Incredible Hulk, or in extreme cases… like today… Sliders.
Damn. FX? Crap. Toon? Crap. TNT? Crap. AMC? Crap. TCM? Crap. OnDemand? Crap.
Crap.
Guess I’ll just type away then.
So, it’s amazing to me that it’s been a week since the accident now. My chest feels a lot better, my knee feels a lot better, elbow – better, foot – better, back – could be better, but my left shoulder is soo much worse that I can’t bend enough to check it out. I pretty much slept through most of last weekend, with the exception of a gig, so that sort of explains the lost time, but – I guess I measure our time by how much we play – and if I want to find a reasonable clock to measure the last week, it would have to be doctor visits and pills.
Sunday, after Saturday’s show, Mara finally talked us in to going to the ER to get our aching bodies checked out. We were poked and prodded and tested for breakage. We squoze and were squozen, and in general, left feeling worse than we had when we went in. We were prescribed pain killers and muscle relaxants, and diagnosed with strains and sprains and (in my case) “cervical strain” which turns out to be whiplash under a weird name.
Later, we went to another doctor, in the hopes that he could give a little more detailed info on what we should and shouldn’t be doing – the hospital had been somewhat reassuring, but truthfully, we’d had the opportunity to talk to a doctor for about 5 minutes total, and now I was getting some really frightening numbness in my left arm…
So, more prodding, more poking – and new prescriptions for strong painkillers and stronger muscle relaxants – and a new prescription for physical therapy. I’m assured that the numbness should go away as my shoulder heals.
I’ve always, always been afraid of something happening to my left hand. In tae kwon do I favoured my right arm to the point that you can now literally see a difference in the musculature… I can lift whatever I damn well please with my right arm – but my left hand is where alll the drawing and guitar and… well, my right hand is good for throwing frisbees and scratching backs.
And there’s something to be said for that – but it was really good to hear a doctor telling me that that sometimes happened, and that it’s the muscle in my shoulder pinching around nerves, and that the physical therapy especially should really help.
Now listening to the Bangles, “Following”. If you don’t know this song, you really should. It’s not anything like their “Manic Monday” or “Walk Like an Egyptian” anthems. This is truly one of the best songs ever recorded.
If you can’t find it, get it from me – The Bangles – Different Light album was one of my very first cassettes. I got it and Boston’s Third Stage for Christmas from my parents one year. It was my first foray into the world of owning my own music, and I played this cassette almost to death.
Up until recently, I’d run across the tape once every couple of years, and be struck by the last song on the second side. I’d know a little more about guitar every time I rediscovered the song – and could appreciate a bit more of the hammer-ons and the harmonics – but all in all, it truly is one of the most haunting songs that I’ve ever heard.
Heather has stumbled downstairs, and now we’re filling the Living room with little grunts and moans… and not in a good way.
Last night’s show at the Mojo Room was made worth it by the other acts. Here, finally – a REAL night of spectacular performers – and we played to an audience of 13 people, including one another, the bartender, and the booking agent.
Now THAT’s just not right. Austin Stahl / Private Eleanor’s CD, Deciduous remains one of my favourite overall albums. From it’s handcrafted exterior, to the low-fi four-track recordings that make up it’s sadly short playlist – it’s just a heartbreakingly passionate thing. And the Mojo Room is the first place where I’ve seen him that had a soundsystem capable of supporting his whispering vocals.
The Chris and Jolene show, other Baltimore natives and Jahva House compatriots – ended the night, playing to a slowly emptying room just after midnight. I felt so guilty exiting that room, but the pain was settling in from our set, and we NEEDED to go…
But thank goodness (or thank Erica, as the case may be) that we played that night, if only to see Porterdavis – a fantastic duo out of Texas. Their mp3s don’t do them justice – and their vocal harmonies and spectacular percussion are well worth seeing. Shame they just left the country.
Heather bought their latest EP, and I just hope hope hope that it sounds like what we heard last night.
Folk musicians all have too much time on their hands, and screw up their albums with useless and distracting extras.
So sad.
Listening to Ani Difranco – Sorry I Am”. Remembering old girlfriends.
Making a mix to remember lost Love.
