Good morning, good morning. I’m early. Oh so early. I know this is a rare trait in a musician, but one that I treasure in people in general, even if it’s one that I exhibit a little too strongly. At least I’ve got a key to the store now.
I’m sitting at the House of Musical Traditions, listening to the gentle sound of mandolins rattling in the breeze… the air register blows at the perfect angle, pressing the price tags into the strings. Better than windchimes (and we have them too), I like all the little sounds that I get to myself in the morning. The hum of this and the hiss of that. The silence is broken here and there by a hopeful early morning call, but we’re not opened yet – I’m not even supposed to be here for another half an hour – and so I let the voice mail deal with whatever panicky needs our almost-first customer has and I relax into the quiet again.
I use my sunday morning drive to the store to listen to tracks from my Java Mammas open mic, critique-ing and thinking, imagining bass lines and trying to figure out what I need to do to make my guitar, my voice, my playing better. I have so much work to do on so many fronts, but no clear direction. It’s the nice thing about working at da House for right now – someone else is telling me that I’m doing my job right and my mistakes are clear cut and if not-so-easily resolved ALL the time, at least they can usually be voided!